Three Days
by Adventurelife
Summary: By MSN. After Strip Weather and Lightning McQueen go missing the season after the World Grand Prix, their friends and sponsors assume it's just a simple ransom case. But when no ransom note appears, the cars are forced to figure out where the racers are and why.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: Here is it, my first fanfiction. I hope everyone who decides to read it enjoys. Just a note of confirmation, this story IS completed. I'm just uploading it slowly as I proof read through each chapter. I should upload once a week at least and I'm estimating that there are about 17 chapters. If anything should happen to me, you can try to convince AdventureLife to upload the rest of it. On that note, I'd like to thank AdventureLife for letting me use this account to upload! I hope you all enjoy, and if you'd like to review but not publicly, you can send me a PM.**

 **As far as ratings go this story is rated K+. There will be action in the story, but nothing worse than the Cars movies. As a warning, there will be Cars 2 references, so if you're trying to pretend that movie never happened, you might not like this story. This is also a bit of an AU as Doc is still alive.**

 **Disclaimers: Along with the main characters, characters like Roman Dunes are not mine. I found them on the Pixar wikia (under Piston Cup Racers).**

* * *

"And that wraps up the second race of this year's racing season. And what a race!"

"I'll say, Bob. Wow, I thought racer 21 had it in the bag but 95 swooped in last minute and took the victory from right under his nose!"

"That's one way of putting it, Darrell. After initial concerns over the Grand Prix McQueen has made quite a comeback!"

"He's not the only one, Bob. Let's no forget Cal Weathers, Dinoco's new racer. He came an impressive third this time around."

"Absolutely, Darrell. He and McQueen already seem to have some sort of friendly rivalry between them. It'll be exciting to see how it plays out!"

It had been another exciting race for the Radiator Springs crew. As soon as McQueen had come off the track his crew had cheered from the pits, congratulating him and all talking at once.

"Sick moves, man!"

"Well done, soldier!"

"Guido and I could not be more proud!"

"Alright, alright, that's enough of that," Doc stated, rolling through between Guido and Sarge. "Kid, you took a risk out there."

"I know, I know," Lightning admitted. "But it paid off! Did you see the rookie's face!"

"You ain't exactly a veteran yourself, Rookie," Doc reminded him.

"Doc, this my sixth year," Lightning raised a brow. "Sounds like I'm here to stay."

"You're still a rookie until I say so," Doc said firmly, his glare making the other racers behind McQueen hang back before congratulating the winner.

McQueen looked and away and pouted slightly, annoyed that Doc was putting a damper on the mood.

"Yes, Sir," he replied quietly.

Doc melted slightly at seeing the kid's pouty expression and relented.

"Go on now, enjoy your victory," Doc said. "You did well today."

Lightning's expression brightened and he turned quickly, leaving his pit crew in smoke as he chatted and laughed with the other cars about the race.

"Come on," Doc told the pit crew. "Let's get out of here before the reporters swarm us."

The crew followed Doc back towards the pits, but spread out once they reached there. Luigi and Guido immediately went to Kevin Shiftright's pit crew, and compared notes about tires. They had formed quite the acquaintance with 121's pit crew after finding out the head of the tire changers had worked for a while in Italy. As a result, they laughed, conversed and argued something terrible.

Sarge was waved over by Roman Dunes, the crew chief of Todd Marcus, number 123. The former National Guard rapid deployment specialist and Sarge had hit in off like 'two tornadoes in a trailer park,' as Mater would say. Dunes was without a doubt the toughest pit crew chief on the track (and dare Doc say) the toughest pit crew chief he had ever seen. Him and Sarge talked whenever they could between the busy racers and it did Sarge good to swap stories with another veteran.

Fillmore wandered over to Ernest Raykes, pit crew chief of Ernie Gearson. _Funny,_ Doc thought. _I didn't know they knew each other_. But he shook it off and headed back to his ramp. He drove onto it slowly and took a deep breath. He never expected to come back here, and here he was. And he was actually glad for it, but not just for himself. He was here for Lightning and because of his previous fame and menacing air, most cars gave him a wide breach. But his friends... They were doing so well here. They still loved their life in Radiator Springs, but this opportunity with Lightning gave them a purpose and an opportunity to make friends outside of Radiator Springs. Although the whole of Radiator Springs would always be a tight family, it was good for the cars to get a break from each other occasionally.

Doc watched from the ramp as Lightning stuck his tire out and went 'cachow' for the cameras. He smiled to himself.

"Kids got a lot of spirit," he said quietly to himself.

* * *

Pushing his way through the crowds of bustling cars behind the pits, Strip Weathers made his way slowly to the Rusteze pit stop. Tex had decided he wanted to invite the Rusteze sponsors to the Dinoco tent after the race for a celebration of the new track. They weren't the only sponsors invited of course, but Tex had wanted to deliver the invitation personally. Strip knew the oil-baron well enough to know that he was keeping a business eye on the company - and their young racer. Tex had been a little disappointed when McQueen had declined the much coveted Dinoco offer and decided to stick with his old sponsors instead, but that only made Tex more determined to get the racer. And knowing Tex, he eventually would. In the meanwhile, they were trying Cal Weathers-Strip's nephew. Tex had actually asked Strip to reconsider retiring for the umpteenth time, but of course Strip had declined. Lynda just wouldn't have it after that last crash.

Retired as he was, the King was still a very popular figure on the circuit. It was never his intention to leave the racing world entirely - Just to get off the track. Pit crew members still nodded respectfully to him as he passed them by and he still received gaping looks from the rookies. But with years of practice and good old politeness, he was able to maneuver his way skillfully past any interest fans.

Strip finally reached booth 95 and rolled onto the asphalt. The Fabulous Hudson was still there on the ramp. Good, that was who he wanted to talk to. Although he was a seasoned ex-racer, Strip still had a lot of admiration for the legend. The Hudson Hornet had been an inspiration to him growing up, he had been to a lot of people. He honestly hadn't even seen him the first time he returned to the track as McQueen's crew chief - he'd been too focused on the last race. Lightning had been quick to make introductions after the crash and Doc had nodded to the King and congratulated him on a successful final race. Lynda had teased him about his shocked expression during his check up.

Hudson heard Strip roll up beside him and backed carefully off the ramp.

"Weathers," he nodded to the light blue car. "What can I do for you?"

Straight to the point. It reminded Strip of his father.

"Doc Hudson," Strip greeted. "Tex is having a gathering at the Dinoco tent to celebrate the first race at the new track."

"Huh," Doc said. "Didn't he help build this thing?" He nodded to the grand track all around them.

"There were some anonymous donations," Strip replied. Hey, the track was in Dallas. Tex couldn't let the biggest track in his home state look crummy, now could he.

"Hm..." Doc replied. "Tell him we'll be there." The old Hudson hornet slowly drove away but commented,

"Your driver looked good out there today."

Strip took that as a hint to follow.

"He's a bit overwhelmed but he'll soon settle in."

"Tell him to watch his corners," Doc said. "He tends to tense up at them."

"Will do," Strip replied, surprised by Doc's willingness to help other racers improve. Make no mistake - Doc was here for McQueen and would only tell his rookie all of the good tricks, but he was also a bit of a teacher at heart and would often give advice. In return he would only ask for a good race to keep McQueen on the tips of his tires.

"Good. How's retirement treating you?" Doc shot the racer a sideways glance. Honestly, witnessing the King's crash had shaken Doc a little more then he liked to admit. It reminded him so very much of his own crash. But McQueen's action of pushing the King over the finish line had thrown those thoughts far back in Doc's head.

"As well as I expected," Strip replied. "Tex's been good to me. Insists on keeping me around the track instead to keep me sharp."

"Racing'll never leave you forever," Doc told the younger car. "Hot Rod proved that when he raced into my town and destroyed my road. Now I'm back here."

Doc stopped as they reached the area where the trucks were mingling.

"Mack," he called. The Semi turned to face him.

"Hiya Doc! Congrats on the win!" The truck called cheerfully.

"Dinoco's been kind enough to invite us to their tent," Doc informed him. "Tell the others."

"Sure thing," the truck grinned at the thought of being able to see Gray, the Dinoco truck again. Spying Weathers, he said, "Hey Mr. The King. Be sure to thank your boss for the invite. He has the best oil in this whole business."

"I will," Strip replied. "Where's your young racer by the way?"

"Oh, McQueen. I reckon he's back in his trailer if he's done with the reporters. I'll go tell him."

"No need," Strip said, turning towards the direction of the trailers. "I'll congratulate the boy."

"Hey, thanks!" Mac called out. As soon as Strip was out of earshot he commented, "What a guy."

Doc agreed in his mind but saw no need to verbalize his thoughts. Instead he turned towards the Rusteze tent to see Rusty and Dusty trying not to stumble over their words while talking to Tex.

"Come on, Mac," the old racecar said. "Let's go help those two before they sell this company to that billionaire."

* * *

It took Strip almost 40 minutes to reach McQueen's trailer. The racetrack was absolutely gigantic and completely brand new. Although Tex had given him a grand tour of most of the highlights, the area where the trucks were parked had not been on the agenda. It seemed the retired racer was not the only one who was having problems maneuvering his way through the chaos. Dudley Spare, one of Billy Oilchanger's pit crew, had almost dropped a tire on one of the newer pit crew mates. This resulted in a huge argument between the two little forklifts which Strip had to side step.

Truth be told, Weathers was feeling a little anxious by the time he reached number 95's trailer. The 500-lap race had started a little late and as a result had ended as the sun was starting to set. It was dusk at the moment, and further away he heard the blare of music from the Dinoco tent. He hoped he would be able to make it back without getting lost. McQueen's trailer was parked by itself as most of the other drivers had moved their trailers. He saw the trailer door open and heard McQueen talking eagerly.

"Love you too, Sally," he chuckled. "Alright, tell Mater we'll go cow tipping again once I get home."

Strip smiled as he rolled up to the trailer. It must be a girlfriend of McQueen's. He vaguely remembered a blue Porsche last year close to the red racer. He drove up to the back of the trailer and Lightning turned as he saw him.

"Oh, hey Mr. the King," he said. "How you doing?"

"Not too bad, Lightning," Strip answered. "That was some good racing out there today."

"Thanks," the race car replied, smiling slightly at the compliment. "But you didn't drive all the way out here just to tell me that?"

"Right you are, son," Strip replied. The kid was learning from Doc. "Tex is having a get-toge..."

He was interrupted as McQueen looked behind him and yelled, "Watch out!"

The blue car didn't have time to respond as he was suddenly rammed into from behind. He winced as his back-left axle screeched under the pressure, still not entirely fixed from his crash. His front slammed into the side of McQueen's ramp and he managed to turn his tires last minute. He got a nasty scratch on his paint job but managed to avoid any damage on his engine.

"Hey! Who are you guys!" McQueen yelled. His powerful engine roaring, he raced into the side of the black Ford Raptor that had rammed into the King. His speed aided him enough to tilt the car slightly, but the heavier Ford didn't budge.

Lightning turned to see two other Ford raptors rolling out of the shadows.

"You guys aren't security," he said nervously, noting the security badges on their side doors. The trucks didn't say anything but come forward threateningly as McQueen nervously backed onto the ramp.

"Get out of here, son," Strip commanded, making a tight turn to look at the other cars.

"What, no!" The racer said, defiantly. "I'm not leaving you!"

"You may not have a choice," the blue car said, and ignoring the pain in his read axel, he revved his engine as hard as he could before releasing his clutch. Skid marks stained the grass as he raced towards the two Raptors on the left. The Raptors didn't expect his sudden attack and they certainly didn't expect the hard-left turn as the King dug his tires into the dirt. Hooking part of his fin into the grill of one of the Raptors, he drove as hard as he could so that the two trucks slammed into one another.

"Go!" He shouted to the stunned Lightning McQueen. The red racer got the hint and took off like a bullet out of a gun. He raced for the gap Strip had created and sped through, a cry for help on the tip of his tongue. For Mack, Sarge, Doc, _anyone_. But a small blue blur slammed into his left side hard enough for him to spin out of control. He tried to regain control, but a tire block had been slammed onto his back tire. The last thing McQueen saw was a flash of a blue Ford fiesta and his head was slammed into the back of the first Raptor that had attacked the King. Light exploded in his brain and his eyes jerked closed. The last thing he murmured before passing out was just,

"Don't hurt us."


	2. Chapter 2

**I had some extra time today and needed a break so here's Chapter 2.**

 **Bash:** **50s slang for a great party. It's meant in a derogatory kind of way in this context**

* * *

"Well, I'll be darned! It's the Fabolous Hudson Hornet!" Tex exclaimed. The Cadillac Coupe De Ville immediately rolled over towards Doc, who had come into the Dinoco tent with Rusty and Dusty behind him. Tex had missed the ex-racer earlier as he had seen someone else he needed to talk to after Rusty and Dusty.

"Doc Hudson will do," Doc replied a little gruffly, unsure about the billionaire.

"Mr. Dinoco sir," Rusty immediately sidled in front of Doc. "Thank you very much for inviting us to your fancy tent and all."

"Oh yeah!" Dusty echoed. "Sure beats our tiny thing."

"Although we have upgraded since our first race," Rusty chattered.

Doc rolled his eyes slightly. Lightning's sponsors were... interesting to say the least. Oh, well, they had given the kid his first big break and despite their clumsiness and lack of professionalism at times, Doc honestly couldn't say a bad thing about the enthusiastic cars. They were hard working, eager cars who treated Lightning with a generosity most sponsors didn't have.

To Tex's credit, the billionaire nodded at them, engaged in their conversation.

"Well, why don't you boys go get yerselves some oil," he suggested. "Everything's on the house."

"Wow, really?" Rusty said. "Thank you so much, Mr. Dinoco."

"My pleasure," the oil baron nodded at the two cars who drove off chatting, completely unaware of the stares they got for their appearance.

"So," Doc said, gruffly, looking at the richest sponsor on the circuit. "You're the big-shot I keep hearing so much about."

"Right you are," the Texan grinned, not putt off by Doc's gruff attitude. "But I hear I'm not the only big-shot around anymore." There was a glint in his eye as he looked at the ex-racer. Doc narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"If there's anything you want from me, Dinoco, I suggest you spit it out. I don't have time for beating around the bush."

"Funny you should say that," Tex said. "But don't worry, Doc Hudson. There ain't nothing I want from ya other than some conversation and perhaps a drink or two."

"You'll have it," Doc nodded, and although the scene of a big tent, dancers, loud music, and flashy lights made him want to dislike Tex, the car's amiable nature was making it extremely hard. "So long as we get out of this bash."

"It' a deal," Tex said, and led the way through the mass of cars to a side exit in the tent. Doc rolled after him but stopped when he saw Luigo and Guido.

"Luigi. Guido," he called sternly. "Don't drink too much. It's a long drive back home in the morning."

"Si si," Luigi answered. "Of course." Him and Guido sped off, ducking between the bigger cars, and Doc wasn't sure if his words had stuck with the two Italians.

Once outside, Doc took a breath of fresh air. The Dinoco tent was far too nosy in his humble opinion. But that was the racing world for you now. All flashy and full of colours and styles. It had changed. And it was only going to change more. But Doc had long since made his peace with that.

He rolled next to the Texan and the two drove towards the direction of the track so that the noise from the huge Dinoco tent faded into the background."

"I'll admit, Doc, I would love to sign McQueen up," Tex started amiably as if they'd never stopped talking. "The boy's a fine young racer and I hope to have him on team Dinoco one day."

"You're not a racer," Doc turned to look at the baron. "What do you see that's so great about him?" Doc knew what made Lightning a good racer of course. But he wanted to see what Tex saw in him. What the baron saw in any racer.

"For starters, he's got talent on the track," Tex answered as if he'd thought this through properly. "Most sponsors had his eye on him after his rookie year. But his whole attitude towards the King's final race what really showed his sportsmanlike spirit." Tex smiled slightly. "Weathers is a good racer, and a good personal friend of mine. Seeing McQueen pushing him over the track made me realize that maybe they're cut out of the same cloth."

"I can assure you they're not quite," Doc replied. "McQueen is a good racer alright, just like Weathers. But he's also reckless and irresponsible and needs a firm hand to guide him in the right direction. You'd need to be a lot harder on him - Not that he'll leave Rusteze."

"Boy's quite loyal," Tex said. "But I'm a patient car, Doc. I'll get him on the team eventually."

"Will you now?" Doc said, and was surprised by the lack of bite in his voice. It came out almost teasingly.

"All legally and ethically mind you," Tex said. "Nothing good ever did come from taking by force."

"Hard work and talent," Doc agreed. "Maybe you're not too far from a racer after all."

Tex laughed.

"I always knew I'd end up in racing eventually. Always fascinated by the sport. Never as a race car through.

"It's a risky business," Doc admitted.

"So is oil," the Texan said, and silence fell upon them. They drove slowly to a little incline in the middle of the infield. Doc drove up and took a deep breath, looking at the moonlit track. Even now in the dark, with all the lights off, all the flashy colours and fancy equipment put away, it just wasn't the same. Dirt and asphalt... So incredibly different. Truth be told, Doc thought he'd be hit with nostalgia when he came back. He thought he'd feel an overwhelming urge to get back on the track and perhaps be jealous of the racers who were doing what he couldn't. But he didn't. There was no nostalgia left because there was nothing left that he recognized. This, strangely enough, made it easier. His era was safely carved into stone, and his role in that era along with it. He could now move into his new era with a new role. That of crew chief. The Hudson Hornet's mouth turned up at the thought. _Senile_. He thought to himself.

He drove down back to Tex, who acted as if nothing happened, even though he had been watching Doc intently the whole time. They made their way bac to the Dinoco tent in companionable silence until Tex spoke up.

"I missed you growin' up. Too busy tryin' to make my fortune. But I've come to realize that you mean a whole lot to the people here," he nodded to the tent. "And as a big part of the racing world, I'd officially like to apologize for how you were treated."

Doc stopped in his tracks.

"And welcome you back."

A thousand pent up emotions hit the Hudson Hornet in his engine with full force. Shock, surprise, gratefulness, and old bitterness at how he was treated years ago. This Texan was determined to just _fix_ everything it seemed. Or at least, determined to make Doc like him. But like all cars of his generation, Doc didn't allow any of these emotions to show.

"I accept yer welcome," the Hudson Hornet said, and even though he had intended it to come out stiffly, it sounded quite genuine.

Tex laughed his hearty laugh.

"I hoped you would," he said. "And I'll be expecting you to accompany Lightning to all of the fancy events he constantly gets invited to. Those younger cars need to quiver in their tires a little at the sight of you. And if there's ever anything Dinoco can do for you, just let me know."

Doc smirked. Tex was indeed an impeccable judge of character. Well, so was he.

"Oh, rest assured. I will," his grin was almost evil, like the one he had when he was planning to outsmart Lightning.

Tex wasn't thrown off though.

The two cars made it back to the noisy Dinoco tent but Doc's agitation had chipped away slightly so he went inside with Tex to get a drink.

"Tex!" A voice called from the crowd and the two turned to see Lynda coming towards them.

"Lynda," Tex greeted her.

"Miss. Weathers," Doc nodded.

"Evening Doctor Hudson," the light blue car nodded. "Listen, Tex, have you seen Strip?"

"Not since earlier, no," Tex replied. "Why, is he missing?"

"I haven't seen him since the race," Lynda replied. "It's not like him."

"Oh, don't you worry about Strip," Tex tried to assure her. "He's probably gotten himself lost in the pits somehow."

"Last time I saw him he was going to fetch Lightning," Doc supplied. "Come to think of it I haven't seen that rookie of mine in a while."

"There you go," Tex stated. "The two of them are probably running laps for old times sake."

Lynda nodded but didn't look quite convinced.

"I'll go looking for them," Doc sighed. "Rookie's probably in trouble anyway," he muttered.

"Thanks Doctor Hudson," Lynda smiled.

"No... no... don't mention it," Doc turned and rolled out of the tent, uncomfortable with the warmth the Weathers so often projected. "Just so long as Tex saves me a drink."

"You got it," Tex called out before turning to talk to the Apple Sponsor.

* * *

Lightning groaned as he woke up. There was a massive pounding in his head and he was feeling dizzy. The surface on his tires felt cold and uncomfortable and he vaguely wondered if this was some sort of prank.

"What happened?" He mumbled to himself, trying to move forward. A weight held his back tire in place. Frowning, Lightning opened his eyes, glancing foggily behind him.

"It looks like a... Ahh!" The race car exclaimed, suddenly wide awake. A boot clamp held his back tire in place, almost like when the Sheriff had caught him in Radiator Springs years ago.

"Easy there," a voice in front of him said.

Lightning turned sharply in front of him, yelling again.

He was met by the calm face of Strip Weathers, which comforted him for only a split second. The race car then looked around panicked. They appeared to be in some sort of trailer, like the one Mack towed him in, but it was completely bare except for the two cars.

"Where are we?" He asked. He felt the trailer swerve to the left and realized that they were moving. "And where are we going?"

"No idea," Strip said. "But you've only been out for about 10 minutes. I figure we're heading in East some direction. But where to, I can't tell."

"No, no, no, this is bad," Lightning started panicking. "This is really, really bad."

"Not as bad as could be I reckon," Weather said, shifting to keep his left axel from stiffening.

"Not too bad!" Lightning exclaimed, and the blue race car saw that the drama queen Doc had worked so hard on suppressing was rearing its head again. "How could this be worse?!"

"We're both alive, ain't we?" Strip replied. "That shows that they won't want to kill us." _Not yet, at least,_ he thought to himself but knew better than to voice his thoughts out loud. The last thing he needed was to scare Lightning even more.

"Oh, right, right," Lightning said, taking deep breaths. "I'm sure this is all a misunderstanding. Maybe they mistook us for someone else."

"Not very likely," Strip replied. "But I'm sure your sponsors will pay any ransom they ask."

"True," Lightning admitted, but slumped down on his front tires after a moment of thinking. "Doc's gonna kill me though."

Despite the situation, Strip smiled slightly at the young car's gloominess and decided to lift the mood.

"'Don't hurt us'," the racer quoted Lightning's last conscious words. "Is that all you got, son?"

Lightning glared at him. "Hey, I'm a race car, ok?" He grumbled. "We're not supposed to get kidnapped. We have security teams for that." He stomped his tire sulkily. He stopped though as he noticed the King also had a boot strapped to the right back tire.

"Hey, thanks for trying back there," he said, glancing down. "Sorry I couldn't get out in time."

"It's alright, son," Strip replied. "You did what you could."

A moment of silence fell over the two race cars as Lightning gathered his thoughts and tried to come to terms with their situation.

"I wonder which one of us they came for," he finally asked.

"What you mean?" Strip asked.

"I mean, they took both of us," Lightning replied. "That can't have been on purpose."

"I figure they were after you," Strip stated. "It was at your trailer after all."

"Yeah, but why bring you with?" Lightning started to shuffle slowly around the trailer, looking for clues as to their carnappers.

"Opportunity, I guess. They probably figured someone would pay to get me back."

"Oh, they _figured_ ," Lightning shot the older car a disbelieving look. "I think we all know that Tex won't rest until you're back, no matter what the cost."

"Perhaps," Weathers shrugged.

"Oh, come _on!"_ Lightning exclaimed, knowing Weathers was a modest car. "You were the face of Dinoco for over 10 years! Darrell calls you Dinoco's golden boy! Tex would do anything to get you back."

"So would your Doc," Strip replied. "By now we've both been reported missing and I'm sure your whole pit crew is out looking for you."

"Yeah," Lightning smiled slightly, feeling warm inside at the thought of his family worrying for him. The feeling faded away though. "I hope they're not too worried." He said this quietly, more to himself than to Strip so the blue race car didn't reply. He didn't really want them to worry, especially Sally.

Before either of the cars could say another word, the trailer they were in slowed to a stop. Lightning looked up hopefully while Strip looked confused. It had only been 10 minutes. There was no way they were out of the city!

The two cars heard the bolts on the outside of the trailer being opened and exchanged glances.

"Just cooperate," Strip said quietly. McQueen nodded, ignoring the fear building up in his engine.

The cars had to blink as bright lights penetrated the darkness of the trailer. Once their eyes adjusted, they saw the Raptors from earlier looking at them in a semicircle. McQueen noticed with some satisfaction that the grill of one of the raptors was bent and out of alignment. The blue paint on the grill showed McQueen who was responsible for that.

Lightning looked further and any hope of a quick rescue was quickly dashed to pieces as he saw an airplane waiting for them. It was a smaller plane, so he realized they wouldn't fly far. Hopefully they'd still stay in the country.

A mechanical sound drew his attention away from the plane and to the black Raptors in front of them. They had concealed weapons in their tires and were pointing to towards the two race cars.

Lightning swallowed as the Ford Fiesta from earlier unclasped the boots holding him and the King in place. The darker blue car jerked his head to the plane and summoned the two cars to follow. They did so quietly, wary of the guns being pointed in their direction. McQueen looked at Strip questioningly, wondering if they could make a break for it. Strip just shook his head slightly, knowing that the guns were too close for them to break away safely.

After they had entered the plane the two cars were restrained again with the boots. The plane was pretty bare except for some uncomfortable seats, a tv screen in front and some drinks. Clearly the drinks weren't for them as the Raptors crowded in the front, ignoring the two prisoners in the back. The Fiesta went to the front to talk to the plane as it started its engines.

"Well," Strip commented to Lightning quietly as the plane started down the runway. "Guess we're going out of state."

* * *

It didn't take Doc long to realize something was wrong upon reaching McQueen's trailer. For one, it was wide open and the kid was nowhere to be found. That was weird in itself as the kid would never leave his trailer open. Upon further inspection, he saw tire treads on the grass. They had spun at first, and then there was signs of a scuffle. If the tire tracks were anything to go by, Weathers had definitely been here. So why was there a scuffle? Did the ex-racer and the rookie have a fight? Doc banished those thoughts out of his head as soon as they entered. McQueen and Weathers might have been competitors at one point but there was no possible reason for them to get into a fight.

That did leave the possibility... No. Doc refused to believe that there had been some sort of an attack. But this was extremely unusual. As Sheriff wasn't at this race, Doc hesitated between heading to the security tent or telling Tex first. He opted for the later and made it back to the Dinoco tent.

Once he told the oil baron the ball was in the court and kept on rolling faster and faster, leaving Doc dizzy and tired after an already eventful day. Tex contacted security who hunted the entire ground. By the time the other racers, sponsors and pit crews had caught wind of the situation it was already 12 at night. Word spread quickly and no one was in the mood to celebrate with two racers missing. Dunes and Sarge quickly organized search parties and soon racers, pit crew members and sponsors alike were looking for the two race cars. Every nook and cranny of the gigantic arena was searched, but to no avail.

Dusty and Rusty were beside themselves, as was Mack, who was the closet thing McQueen had to a bodyguard. As the sun rose, security sent everybody home with instructions not to spread the word. Doc knew it would only be a matter of time before the press could get hold of the story and just hoped McQueen and Weathers would be found before then. The veteran race car used the phone in McQueen's trailer to call Sheriff to update him on the situation.

"Doc, I hate to admit it, but the best thing to do is to wait for a ransom note," Sheriff had replied.

"I know," Doc sighed. "I just hope the kid's ok."

"I don't think they'll hurt him," Sheriff assured Doc. "He's far to valuable. In either case, I'll come out there with the rest of the crew."

"It's a long drive, Sheriff," the race car said tiredly to his friend.

"We'll fly if we have to," Sheriff said determinedly. "Go get some rest, Doc. We'll be there within 24 hours."

Doc ended the call and closed his eyes. It had been a long night. Not wanting to miss any updates on McQueen's whereabouts, but also knowing he wouldn't be any use to anyone in the state he was in, Doc opted for a few hours of sleep.

* * *

"Any word?" Mack asked Gray as the Dinoco truck rolled up beside him.

"None at all," Gray replied somberly.

"Aww man," Mack replied. "I've already lost the kid once. I'm gonna get fired this time around for sure."

"You're not going to get fired," said Gray firmly. "It's hardly your fault the racers are missing. And it won't do you any good to sleep deprive yourself because of it."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Mack sighed. "How's Cal holding up?"

"Worried for his Uncle," Gray admitted. "But Mrs. Weathers took him back to the hotel and is taking care of him."

"Good," Mack admitted. "Doc Hudson's resting in McQueen's trailer. I'm sorta keeping an eye on it." He nodded back towards the trailer.

Gray could tell the Rusteze truck was shaken at the events and he sympathized. The Dinoco truck had been in the business a long time and knew that drivers tended to form a strange sort of protective friendship with their racers. Although he no longer towed Strip around, he was worried for the ex-racer. He was just better at hiding it.

"Why don't you try to sleep a few hours," Gray suggested. As Mack started protesting, Gray interrupted, "I'll watch the trailer for no. Ain't nothing gonna happen to the Hudson Hornet on my watch."


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's the next chapter for those of you who are following. Thank you very much for the feedback letting me know you're enjoying it! I found some mistakes in the first two chapters and fixed them in case anyone was bothered by them.**

 **This chapter isn't very exciting but it was fun to write Sally doing her thing as a lawyer instead of her just being Lightning's girlfriend or a resident of Radiator Springs.**

* * *

By the time the gang from Radiator Springs arrived, it was already late morning of the next day. Through some miracle, the press hadn't discovered the missing racers yet, too busy reporting on the trial of one of Axelrod's minions in England.

Sheriff, Mater, Sally, and Ramone all rolled off the small plane they had paid to fly them over. It had taken a beating out of the town's budget, and Sheriff silently vowed to himself that if McQueen was only goofing off, he was going to earn back every penny through community service.

Mater and Sally were both mostly worried, Mater constantly asking Sally questions about ninjas and Sally trying to assure Mater that everything was ok. Ramone, while worried as well, had mainly come for emotional support. He only wished Flo could come, but his wife was busy running the cafe for tourists.

All of them drove through the big streets of Dallas to the race track. Most of the cars who rushed by them didn't seem to recognize them, or if they did, didn't bother to stop for a picture. When they reached the track, a Ford Raptor with a security badge showed them in to the Dinoco tent. Sally had to gently tell Mater to focus as he looked around with wide eyes.

In the tent were Doc, Tex, a car they had never seen before, and the rest of their friends.

"Luigi! Guido!" Mater rushed over to them. "Is it really true? Is McQueen and the King really gone?"

"Si, si!" Luigi cried out. "They have simply disappeared into thin air!"

"Can't you use your fancy helicopter to find them, Mr. Dinoco?" Mater turned to the oil baron.

"Son, he's been out since sunrise," Tex replied. "Came back negative. He can't see too much from that high."

"Sheriff," Doc rolled forward and nodded to his old friend. "This is Robert Scott Marshall. He's Dinoco's head of security."

Marshall was a grey Chevrolet Silverado with a small Dinoco logo printed on his side.

"Sheriff," Marshall nodded.

"Marshall," Sheriff replied. "I assume you've contacted the local authorities?"

"We did this morning," Marshall replied. "We've urged them to keep this quiet in case the carnappers demand secrecy."

"Think they'll be able to keep it quiet?" Sally asked.

"I hope so, Miss," Marshall replied.

"Marshall, Tex, this is Sally, Lightning's lawyer. That there is Ramone, and you probably already know Mater." Doc did the necessary introductions.

"Scott here'll be organizing the whole thing from our headquarters here in Dallas," Tex replied. "That means coordinating our security forces, communicating with the police, and anyone else should the need arise."

"Have you contacted the racing board?" Sally asked.

"Right after the police," Marshall replied.

"For all the good that did," Doc muttered.

Ramone in the meanwhile had gone over to Fillmore and tried to cheer him up. The minivan had taken the kidnapping really hard and Sarge was onto to relieved for Ramone's help on the matter. Luigi and Guido were also not extremely emotionally stable so Sarge had felt a little frayed at the edges.

"Hey, Fillmore, man," Ramone said, lifting himself up so he could look the minivan in the eye. "Don't look so down. McQueen would want us to be happy!"

"Sorry," Fillmore sniffed. "It's just... We don't know what got him... Or what they're doing."

Sarge rolled his eyes and bit back a bark of 'pull yourself together, soldier,' and instead focused on what Sheriff was saying.

"Standard protocol says we wait for a random note or message. Unless we have reason to believe that this wasn't a carnapping."

"Unfortunately, no such evidence has appeared," Marshall said. "There was a sign of a scuffle at McQueen's last known occasion. Neither him or Strip Weathers were fighters."

"Is there a chance that the two cases aren't related?" Sheriff asked.

Doc groaned.

"I hope not."

"That would make a search and rescue much harder," Sarge agreed from the side.

"I've inspected the scene of the crime and I would suspect some security guards are responsible for this," Marshall replied. "The tire tracks roughly match the build required for the position."

"How many security guards are working here?" Sally asked.

"Over 200," Tex replied, a little miserably.

"And the track is brand new, as are most of it's employees."

"Then that's where we'll start," Sheriff concluded. "We'll need access to any files concerning this track's employees and their records."

"Good luck," Doc muttered sarcastically. At Sheriff's look Marshall elaborated.

"It seems the racing board is... unwilling to grant us access to their employee contracts."

"Wait, what?" Sally asked. "But you're the law, aren't you?"

"I'm not, technically speaking," Marshall said. "And out here you need a warrant to access something like that."

Sheriff's lights flashed angrily.

"So we're stuck here, unable to do anything," Doc snapped, angry at the whole darn situation.

"That's... That's," Sally stuttered for words. "Unacceptable. I'm not going to sit here while two cars might be in danger because the racing board is uncomfortable about a few contracts."

"Doesn't look like there's anything else, Miss," Tex replied sympathetically.

"Don't you pay for most of the Piston races?" Sarge asked. "Can't you convince them to turn over the paper with a few threats?"

"Or... We could steal them! Just for a short while of course," Mater cut in.

"I'm afraid the public won't look too kindly on me using my position as a threat," Tex shrugged.

"He's right, Sarge, let it go," Doc sighed. He might have been angry at Tex earlier, thinking the billionaire was just trying to duck out of helping a friend. But his anger was mostly directed on the racing board, and the voice of reason inside of him was winning when it came to the oil baron.

"So, you're saying all we can do is sit around and wait?" Ramone asked.

"I'm afraid so," Marshall replied. "We should receive a note or message by tonight I suspect."

There was a moment of silence as all the cars absorbed this information. Having two race cars disappear was bad enough. However, not being able to do _anything_ about it was so much worse. The grim reality of most carnappings were not lost on any of the cars (except perhaps Mater) but the knowledge that the two cars that disappeared were celebrities stirred a little bit of hope inside of them.

Sally broke the silence.

"Well, I'm going to do something," the Porsche turned sharply.

"-Sally," Doc tried to interrupt but the lawyer turned towards him.

"Listen, Doc. I've dealt with these kinds of people before. I just need to look up a few things and then I'll confront them. I can't do nothing if Stickers is in danger."

The two cars looked intently at each other for a whole before Doc nodded and stepped back.

"Marshall, why don't you lead the lady to head office," Tex suggested to his head of security. "I'll meet you back at the office."

"Sure thing," Marshall replied, but glanced around at the other cars before adding in a low voice, "I'm starting to suspect this wasn't a carnapping. It could be to make us sweat, but no note was left on the scene. You two might have to start thinking if you have any enemies that are using your racers to get to you."

The words sent a cold shiver through Doc's engine block, and set Tex's mouth in a frown. Marshall's brown eyes were sincere, however, and both cars found themselves nodding in agreement before the head of security drove out with Sally.

"Alright," Tex cleared his throat and turned to the Radiator Springs group. "Why don't y'll go for a drive through town? I know some of you ain't been here before and there sure is a lot to see."

"But what about McQueen?" Luigi asked.

"Yeah," Mater was quick to agree.

"Go on, you lot," Doc knew Tex was trying to get the group's mind off McQueen's disappearance and agreed with the idea. "It'll take your mind of things. The rookie wouldn't want you to sit around here all day."

Sarge took charge, albeit with a reluctant feeling, and the group slowly made their way out of the tent. Sheriff lingered behind.

"If it's all the same to you," he said, looking at the other two cars. "I prefer to stay with you. I don't want to see you two go missing as well."

"That's awfully kind of you, Sheriff," Tex replied. "And there'll be plenty of room in my office."

The Dinoco tent was left deserted, ready for the cleaner to come as the three cars rolled out.

* * *

Sally was a little surprised to arrive at the racing board office (not the head office of course, but one to the side of the track) and to see Lynda Weathers there. Marshall had shown her where the Dinoco head office was and she had done some research on the legal documents, rules and regulations concerning the Piston Cup. She was well versed in the Piston Cup legal technicalities after she started dating McQueen, but a quick brush up boosted her confidence.

"Mrs. Weathers," Sally called out and smiled softly at the light blue car turned to face her. "Hi, I'm Sally. Lightning McQueen's lawyer."

"Oh, Miss Sally," Lynda smiled. "So nice to finally make your acquaintance. Lightnin's told us all about you."

"It's nice to meet you to. I only wish it was under better circumstances," Sally's mouth turned into a tight frown.

"As do I," Lynda sighed. She looked tired, as if she hadn't gotten too much sleep the night before. "The racing board is gonna go public and announce the Strip and Lightning are missin' sometime later today. Seeing as both of em are celebrities, they're hopin cars'll keep an eye out for em." Lynda's accent tilted and it was clear to Sally that the she was upset, even if she was hiding it well.

"Well, I just wanted to let you know that the Radiator Springs crew are going to do everything we can to help find your husband as well as McQueen," Sally said earnestly. "I'm actually here right now to convince the racing board to let us see the employee records. Marshall thinks one of the security guards might have been responsible."

"Good luck with that, hun," Lynda said. "They can be quite stubborn when they think trouble could arise from budgin'."

"I have to try, Mrs. Weathers," Sally said determinedly.

"I wish you well," Mrs. Weathers said. "I'm sure if anyone can convince them, it's Lightning's sweetheart."

Sally blushed ever so slightly.

"Thank you," she said, and headed for the big double doors, having already made an appointment (meaning demanded) to see the board earlier.

"Oh, Sally," Lynda called out behind her and Sally stopped. "The.. Honda Accord, Diego..." the car said slowly. "His sister Alexis went missing once... Found safe and all, but I heard it really shook him... Maybe that'll help you convince them."

Sally nodded her thanks.

"I'm sure it will," she said, and steeling herself, she pushed through the doors. Lawyer mode ready.

* * *

"And by law, you would therefore be protected even if you release employee records," Sally made her closing statement. "And I am confident, that with your cooperation, the search and rescue of Lightning McQueen and Strip Weathers will be sped up. Our only concern is their safety."

The board, consisting of 10 cars, looked at Sally in the middle of the room. She was good at reading expressions but these board members all had excellent poker faces.

"Thank you, Miss Sally," said a female red car. "We will take your words under consideration."

"Under considering?" Sally rolled forward. "With every second we spend talking, our missing racers are being taken further and further away. They could be out of the country by now."

"Miss Sally," the head of the board, a 1971 Chevrolet Corvette started. "We are, of course, most dedicated to our racers, old and new. But releasing employee records to the police make us most uncomfortable."

"Is releasing them to the police your only concern?" Sally asked, pushing the board into a corner.

"What are you suggesting?" The head asked suspiciously.

"You're worried about discretion," Sally stated and caught a flash on one of the younger car's face. "And that's ok, I get that. So, give the information to someone you know you can trust."

"And who would that be?" A black Toyota Camary asked.

"The head of Dinoco security," Sally said cordially.

The name of the biggest (and richest) sponsor, caused the board members to glance at each other, except for the head of course.

"That's an interesting proposal," he said.

"It's the only proposal," Sally turned to look at the rest of the board. "Two cars are missing. You are withholding valuable information. Robert Marshall will be able to collaborate with police without compromising your employee's personal information."

Two of the cars glanced down on their tablets, already researching the Dinoco head of security. Sally knew he would come up clean. She wouldn't have made this proposal otherwise.

"This is my final offer," she said. "I know some law enforcement officials who are very eager to start on this case. I wouldn't want them to have to apply for a warrant."

"If you'll give us a moment," The head of the board said and all of the cars left their place to crowd around him. Sally left them to talk and headed to the huge window set in the wall. She looked out onto the bustling, bright city. For a moment she saw a flash of brown that looked like Mater, but seeing as she didn't see any other cars she recognized she realized she must have been wrong.

It took the board 10 minutes to return to their previous positions at the table. Sally was quaking inside but maintained her cool exterior expression outside as she waited for their answer.

"Our records will be forwarded to Scott Marshall," the head announced and Sally sighed in relief inside. "The terms and conditions will be included in the email."

"Thank you," Sally said. "You won't regret this." She glanced at Diego, the Honda Accord, who sent Sally a tiny smile.

"If you'll excuse us," the head of the board said. "We have an announcement to prepare for the media."

Sally took this as her hint to leave and rolled out of the room. As soon as the doors closed she raced towards the exit. She had to reach Dinoco's head office and see what the board had sent Marshall.


	4. Chapter 4

**Here's another chapter for everyone who's following. It seems like I'll be able to upload most week nights as the weekends are just too busy.**

 **In reply to a guest review I had regarding Marshall being able to apply for a warrant... I'm no expert but I don't think a security official can get a warrant. Seeing as Marshall is an employee of Dinoco his authority is limited as he's not technically law enforcement. He's in the private sector if that makes any sense. Which is also why the racing board was willing to compromise by sending him the employee records.**

 **There's also the possibility that the police wouldn't be able to apply for a warrant until either 24 hours is over or a ransom note appears. Again I'm no expert but seeing as this takes place in a world of Cars I think a little bit of creative wiggle room is allowed. Hope this explains everything and thank you for the feedback!**

* * *

Although he had been in Tokyo, Monte Carlo, and London, Mater was still stunned at the vastness of downtown Dallas. The roads were wider than the other cities he had been in, and the city not as densely populated. He looked at all the tall buildings and sky scrapers with enthusiasm and drove from one shop window to the next to see what mysteries the inside of the building held.

Luigi and Guido were almost lost to them as they entered a huge department store. The store held rows upon racks, upon stacks of tires. Guido's forklift had dropped, along with Luigi's jaw.

"Guido..." he said with a shaky voice. "Look... TIRES!" The two had practically danced down the aisle in excitement.

Ramone picked up some rare paints that were hard to import into Radiator Springs, and Sarge ended up chatting with a light armoured vehicle.

They eventually ended up window shopping again.

"Cool," Mater muttered in awe, face pressed against a class window displaying various hooks. "Hey McQueen, think I should get..." the tow truck looked beside him and frowned, suddenly remembering that his friend wasn't travelling with him.

"You alright, Mater?" Ramone asked, coming beside him.

"Yeah," Mater sighed. "Just, you know, forgot for a minute that McQueen isn't here."

"Don't worry, man," Ramone replied. "He wouldn't want you to worry."

Mater sighed and nodded.

"Look guys!" Fillmore shouted, causing the rest to come towards him. He had found a little organic cafe.

"Oh no," Sarge groaned.

"Can we stay here for lunch?" Fillmore asked.

"Yeah, sure," Ramone replied. Luigi and Guido didn't seem to particularly mind where they ate, and Sarge caved under the pressure.

"I'm just gonna find the men's room," Mater excused himself, and wondered off further down the road.

"Don't think of McQueen, don't think of McQueen," he told himself after washing up and making his way back to the group. They were situated next to a large pool of water and Mater liked how the liquid sparkled.

"Excuse me," a voice behind Mater caught his attention. A light blue Ford Fusion was looking up at him with bright eyes that held an intelligent spark in them that Mater was sure he'd seen before.

"I couldn't help but notice that you're a tow truck," the car continued. "My friend's gotten himself stuck in a door. Do you think you could help him?"

"Um... Ok," Mater replied. "I mean, I dunno if I'm licensed in this state, but I don't mind lending my hook." He swung it around as he talked.

"Thank you," the car replied, and turned with an elegant smoothness that niggled the thought in Mater's mind that he should _know_ this car.

Mater followed the car into a small office building that read 'knife sharpening services'. He glanced behind him to see his friends still eating about a block down.

"I don't believe I caught your name mister," Mater tried to engage in conversation as he entered the building.

"That's because I believe you know it," the car replied, and Mater watched shocked as the light blue body of the car folded away to reveal...

"Finn McMissile!" Mater whooped. "Daggunit, I knew I recognized you."

The Aston Martin smiled at the tow truck as he rambled on.

"And here I thought that I'd gone and ruined the day, what with forgetting McQueen is gone... McQueen! Is that why you're here, Finn? Are you gonna help us find him?"

"That's not why we're here," the spy replied. "But as it turns out we may have to."

"We?" the confused tow truck asked.

"Hello, Mater," a female voice floated from a door. Mater turned abruptly to see a purple car smiling brightly at him.

"Miss Holley," he exclaimed. "Boy, am I glad to see you."

"As am I," Holley replied, giving the tow truck a kiss on the cheek. "We're so sorry to hear about your friend."

"Yeah," Mater's tires dropped. "But that's why you're here right? To help find him? Isn't that what spies do? Or can you not tell me?"

Holley chuckled at barrage of questions.

"No, Mater, we're not here to look for McQueen," Holley told him gently. Mater glanced between the two of them, confused.

"You remember what happened last year at the World Grand Prix?" McMissile asked, driving to behind a low desk.

"Shoot, yeah of course," Mater banged his tire on the floor enthusiastically. "Sir Axlerod was trying to make Allinol look bad, 'cause he had a huge oil reserve and wanted to make a ton of money selling it once his company started looking bad. They also wanted to kill McQueen but we managed to stop all of them and I was knighted."

The tow truck looked immensely proud of himself.

"Unfortunately, we didn't get all of them," McMissile said and pressed a button in front of him. A screen fizzled to life of Holley's dashboard. A picture of an orange AMC Gremlin appeared on the screen.

"I know that car!" Mater exclaimed. "He chased us at the airport and tried to kill you in Japan!"

"Known simply as Grem," McMissile rolled towards the image. "He's the last piece of the Axlerod conspiracy puzzle."

"We've been tracking him for the past year," Holley explained. "Turns out he managed to escape after being thrown into a pub in London. Over the past few years he's been all over Europe, managing to secure the other shares in the oil rigs."

"It seems his buddies are determined to leave it to him to carry out revenge," McMissile sounded grim.

"We think he has all of the shares," Holley stated. "And that could be disastrous if he decides to flood the market with oil."

Mater nodded slowly, not entirely understanding what 'flood the market' meant, but he figured Grem would simply find a big market and flood it with oil so that the cars wouldn't be able to drive away because of the slick.

"He was last seen on a security camera in New York," McMissile explained. "And with the disappearance of your friend, it can't be a coincidence."

"Wait, how do you know 'bout that?" Mater asked. "Sarge told me not to tell anyone."

"Oh, a little bird told me," Finn said, smiling wryly.

"So, you think..." Mater said slowly. "That this Grem fella kidnapped McQueen for revenge."

"As revenge," Finn stated. "Or perhaps as leverage. It's possible he wants to get all his friends out of jail. Threatening to flood the market is one thing, but threatening a race car's life would be another thing entirely."

"Then why did Grem take Mr. the King?" Mater asked. "He didn't have nothing to do with Sir Axlerod."

The two spies glanced at each other.

"That we don't know yet," Finn admitted.

"We think that Mr. Weathers might have stumbled across the scene by accident," Holley stated. "And the carnappers just took him to keep it quiet."

"So, what can I do to help you get them back?" Mater asked eagerly. "Will we get to go on a super secret mission again and karate some bad cars."

Mater kicked forward excitedly with his front tire and with a hi- _ya_ whipped his hook onto the wooden desk and ripped a chunk out.

"Oops," he said, as the wood went clattering to the floor. "Sorry 'bout that." Holley smiled slightly.

"No, thank you, Mater," she said. "Although we'd love to have you join us, we need you to stay here, undercover."

"I ain't too good at that undercover stuff," the tow truck glanced down.

"We won't ask you for anything dangerous," McMissile said. "We want you to report what's going on here in Dallas. If any of your friends or the Dinoco security team find a lead, I want you to phone us."

"But I don't have a phone," Mater replied.

"I can install one for you," Holley said.

"And it will lead straight to our private numbers," Finn nodded to the two spies. "All you have to do is say 'call Holley and Finn' and you'll be directly connected with us."

Mater took a moment to digest all of this information.

"So, you just want me to call you whenever Marshall or Sheriff find anything on the missing cars?" He asked slowly.

"Exactly," Finn replied.

"Well... shooot," Mater grinned. "Sure, I'll do that for ya! Ye just needed to ask."

"I have every confidence in you, Mater," the old spy said confidently.

When Mater excited the office building, he had a one-way line installed with Holley and Finn's numbers. Swelling with pride, it was impossible for the other cars not to notice.

"What took you so long?" Sarge barked.

"Oh... just ran into some old friends," Mater said lazily.

"Friends? Here?" Luigi asked. "You must have been mistaken."

"Was not," Mater glanced down at the smaller car. Sarge rolled his eyes and ended the conversation before Luigi could answer with a 'was to', by shoving a can of oil in Mater's direction. The other cars let the subject drop as well, figuring Mater had just had some sort of crazy daydream.

* * *

The last couple of hours stretched into what felt like days for Strip Weathers. Somewhere during the plane ride, he had fallen asleep along with McQueen, both of them tired by the events of the day and lulled by the plane's engines. They were shaken awake after what Weathers thought could only have been 3 hours and after the plane landed, they were moved into another trailer. The airport they landed at was definitely far away from any major cities, and Strip saw a brief flash of tall trees and assumed that they had flown East and were still in the country.

After one more haul in the back of a smaller trailer, the two cars entered what one of the Ford Raptors called 'their final destination.' All four of their captors were quite tired and Strip hoped that he could help the kid make a break for it. While he was a fast car with a lot left in him, he was out of practice and knew McQueen would have more success with speeding away. But the two cars were out of luck as they were rolled out at dawn into what seemed like a compound. Strip looked around as quickly as he could, and although he had an untrained eye, he noticed several forklifts moving around what seemed to be barrels of oil.

The two cars were prodded by the gun wielding Raptors to a warehouse, and again daylight was stolen from them.

"I'll go report to the boss," the smaller of their captors said tiredly once they had reached their destination. It was a rather large room with one wall completely covered by a huge tv screen. The Raptors left their prisoners booted in the back part of the room and pushed some oil towards them, completely uninterested in any sort of interaction.

"You'd think they'd care a little bit more," McQueen muttered, sipping the oil and watching as the Raptors turned on the television and flipped to the news channel.

"They're probably on a pay-roll," Strip replied quietly.

Even though the 'boss' had received word of their arrival, the two cars spent the whole day alone in relative privacy. Several forklifts, Chevrolets, and even an AMC Pacer Car came in and out of the room to get a drink or talk to the Raptors. Strip noticed the Pacer Car in particular because he had snapped at one of the Raptors as if he were in charge.

McQueen wasn't nearly as interested in studying the boring activity around them and seemed to grow quite restless as the day drew on.

"So, Mr. the King," he finally asked. "Where you from?"

At Strip's inquisitive look the red car shrugged and continued.

"It's just that we're stuck here, and, well, I knew Tex signed you up originally and you raced for him your whole career, and I wanted to know what else there is to that."

"Well, son, I'm originally from Utah," Strip decided to indulge the young race car to keep his mind occupied. "Came from a small town south of Salt Lake City."

"Were there any races there?" Lightning asked, glad for the distraction.

"Small ones, mostly. My father took me when I was young and I knew then that that was what I wanted to be. 'Course I started practicing and when I was old enough went to the first race I could afford, seeing as I had to pay myself."

"Your parents... didn't want you racing?" McQueen asked hesitatingly.

"It wasn't exactly that," Strip continued. "They just wanted to make sure it was what I wanted, and decided to make me work for it. I had to pay the entry fee for my first race myself, except for the part my brother helped out."

"Cal's Dad?" Lightning asked.

"Yip. My senior by 5 years," Strip nodded. "Always took it upon himself to keep me in check when my parents weren't around."

"Didn't I read somewhere that you won your first race by a mile?" Lightning prodded.

"It wasn't exactly a mile, son. But I knew by then that I wanted to make a career out of it, and my family saw I had a talent for it."

"When did Tex sign you on?" McQueen asked curiously.

"After I had been racing for about a year," Strip replied. "I'd gotten my first set of racing tires then, and after a race he approached me in all of his Texan glory and announced that Dinoco was looking for a new racer."

"What did you say?" Lightning grinned slightly at the mental image of the Dinoco CEO.

"Nothing at first," Strip admitted. "My brother had rolled up by then, and immediately asked Tex who he was and what he wanted. He was only in the racing world for my sake. He didn't know who Tex was and certainly didn't trust him."

"But Tex convinced him, right? I mean, Tex convinces everybody eventually," McQueen rolled his eyes for emphasis.

"He sure does, and I raced for him the next year. The rest is history," the King said. "He's a good car, Lightning. If ever you wanna change sponsors."

"He pay you to say that?" McQueen joked and the two cars laughed quietly.

"What about you?" Strip asked. "First time I saw you was during the New Hampshire race where you almost beat me. Blew the racing world away that day."

"Aw, not much to tell," McQueen shuffled forward a little. "Grew up in the big city, always dreamed of racing. Got into some small races until Dusty and Rusty found me scouting for talent."

"How did those two get their hands on a Piston number?" Strip asked, and Lightning knew better than to take offense.

"Got lucky, I guess," he shrugged. "They were the only ones who requested a 95. They were a little shocked when they got it to be honest. Didn't know what to do other than to hire an agent and go scouting for a racer."

"They were lucky to have found you," Strip commented, knowing that Lightning definitely had a raw talent for racing.

"Not at first, they weren't," Lightning half-exclaimed. "I _hated_ them during that first year. The only reason I took the sponsorship was to get into the series. By the end of the first year I was sure I would get into Dinoco and never have to see them again."

Lightning shook his head at himself.

"Then why didn't you?" Strip asked. "Tex was ready to give you that job - still is in fact."

"Oh, I ended up in this little town called Radiator Springs," Lightning chuckled. "Turns out folks there had some lessons to teach me about loyalty."

"And you came back with the Fabulous Hudson Hornet as your crew chief," Strip shook his head, maybe just a little bit jealous. But he turned sincere again and said, "That town was just about the best thing that's happened to you."

Lightning agreed and the two kept talking. Talking and watching the news was the only thing they had to do, so the two cars exchanged racing stories and Lightning gave Strip a detailed narrative of his Grand Prix adventure. This took up a significant portion of the day and by the time McQueen had finished the two cars felt quite comfortable around each other. They eventually reached the topic of family.

"Mother passed away," Strip answered when Lightning asked. "Cal's father still lives with mine in the same old town."

"Did they ever come to your races?" Lightning asked.

"Not usually to mine," Strip stated. "But they listened every single one on the radio."

Lightning smiled, thinking of how the times had changed with televisions.

"And yours?" Strip asked, and McQueen's smile faltered. He looked down and shrugged slowly. Realization dawned on Strip.

"I'm sorry, son," the ex racer said, nudging the younger car lightly.

"It's alright," Lightning shrugged. "It was my first race so a while ago. They told me to keep going for the Piston Cup... That's part of the reason I went so hard for it I guess."

"You didn't have to do it alone."

"I didn't know that then," the race car said earnestly. "It took Radiator Springs to teach me that. That and an old race car called Doc Hudson."

The two cars lapsed into a comfortable silence, having said all there was to be said. Their thoughts wandered to their families, Strip thinking about Lynda and Cal and hoping to goodness they were safe and not worrying about him. Lightning thought of Mater, Doc and Sally. He knew they were worried, and hoped that they wouldn't do anything crazy to try and rescue him, especially Mater.

The television broadcast switched to the two hosts in the studio.

"And now, from Dallas Texas, an important message from the racing board."

The Raptors and both race cars perked up at the news.


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's chapter 5, but spoiler alert warning for Cars 3. However, if you've already seen it go right ahead and read. Enjoy!**

* * *

The head of the racing board rolled in front of the racing office. Cameras flashed and reporters shouted questions but the old car cleared his throat and everyone fell silent.

"It is my solemn duty to announce," the car started. "That last night, approximately 9 pm, two of the nation's most loved race cars disappeared from the track. Strip the King Weathers and Lightning McQueen were last seen by the trailers, but failed to appear at the after-race party. A thorough search party was conducted but racers 95 and 43 were not found. We would urge anyone who has seen these race cars to immediately contact the local authorities."

The reporters all shouted questions at once and a few words that sounded like 'captured' or 'carnapped' made their way through.

"It is unclear whether any foul play was involved," the head of the board stated. "We would just like everyone to know that the safety of our racers is of utmost importance, and that any and all of our available resources will be utilized to the best of their abilities."

Leaving the media to explode and go ballistic in a frenzy of questions, the old car turned and went back into the building. The screen switched back to the television hosts in the studio who immediately started analyzing the head of the board's words.

"Huh," said one of the Ford Raptors, turning back to his drink. The security cars didn't seem the least bit worried.

"This is good, right?" Lightning whispered. "I mean, now people can now and they can start looking for us."

"No, son," Strip said grimly. "The fact that they just announced it means they don't have the slightest clue of where we are."

* * *

 _Earlier that day_

Sally, overjoyed and relieved at her success at convincing the racing board, hurriedly drove to Dinoco's head office. Or one of their offices, she wasn't quite sure where their main one was. Being back in the big city felt a little bit overwhelming to the Porsche. She was a good lawyer who could easily move with the flow of a crowded city, and having the opportunity to go up against the racing board and winning filled her with a sense of accomplishment that came from a big case. However, the victory was made bitter at the knowledge that this was her boyfriend she was trying to save. Stickers, her flashy, overconfident race car. He was in danger and she needed to get him back safely.

 _And besides_ , she thought to herself as she rolled into the huge glass doors in the Dinoco office. _I'll always stay in Radiator Springs_. Big exciting city life or not, she had fallen in love with the small town as soon as she had seen the view from the Wheel Well, and she was going to stay there forever.

Once inside the friendly receptionist showed her towards the elevator and traveled up with her to where Marshall was in the security room.

"Just you say if you need anything, dear," she chatted. "Mr. Dinoco says you're the sweet heart of that poor race car that went missing. So, if you need something warm to drink, you just let me know."

"Thank you," Sally said, appreciatively. "Do you know where Mr. Dinoco is now?"

"Oh, he's on the top floor with the Fabulous Hudson Hornet," the receptionist said. "That's where his office is."

"Thank you," Sally nodded. "I might have to ask Doc a few things."

"Oh of course, dear," the receptionist assured. "Just ask Marshall and he'll be happy to have someone show you."

Sally thanked the bubbly small car and entered the security room. Marshall was already there looking up at several huge monitors. The room was a bit dim and the glare from the screens made Sally feel like she was in some sort of sci-fi movie, the ones Mater occasionally made her and Stickers watch.

"Miss Sally," Marshall said, turning towards her.

"Marshall," Sally greeted. "Everything come through ok?"

"Absolutely," the official turned back towards the main monitor. "I've already sorted the records out for us. I find the most effective way to sort through various types of data is, in this case, to divide it up by types of employees. That way we know who had access to what area of the track."

"Right, right," Sally nodded. "That's good."

"Security," Marshall nodded to the screen right in front of him. "Has access to just about everything. I thought I'd start with that and you can choose whatever else you think we need to access."

"Right," Sally nodded, not realizing she had repeated herself. She glanced at the screens carefully. Security guards definitely seemed the best option for foul play but there were also race officials, cars who helped seat guests, cleaners...

"Hm..." Sally went to race officials first and started what would turn out to be a long afternoon.

Seeing as it was lunch time (and it was around this time that Mater met McMissile), a small forklift whizzed in to bring them something to eat. There were less officials that security guards and Sally was through her list quicker than Marshall. All the officials seemed to be of respectable character, and most had been around the series for a while. As a lawyer, Sally had become accustomed to mark and characterize certain cars. None of the officials really 'stuck out' to her.

She took a break and watched as Marshall worked. After the while the car shook his head. He had checked all of the Raptors first but they had all checked through with clean criminal records. Most of them even had excellent references. He had sent some of his team to check on those Raptors who did not have references and they had all reported in for work the next day. Although the race was finished, some teams still had to pack up their gear so security would be on the track along with some officials to show around any curious tourists. After the Raptors, Marshall had checked all of the other security guards as well. He had never been so annoyed at clean records in all his life.

"Few minor violations," he told Sally. "But nothing concrete."

Sally sighed, feeling a small headache coming on.

"Is there a possibility that the cars who took them didn't work for the track?" She asked.

"That's a possibility..." Marshall admitted. "But that means we'd have to look at all of the other racers and their teams."

Sally knew that could be a nightmare, even if the other racers cooperated.

Marshall continued.

"Although that could give us a guide as to how the two cars were transported out... But I doubt any racer on the track would play dirty like this."

Sally's brow furrowed.

"What if someone who isn't connected with the track at all is responsible for this?"

"You're suggesting someone snuck onto the track?" Marshall asked.

"Well, yeah," Sally said.

"Hate to say so, Miss," Marshall shook his head. "But all employees need an official pass. It's a new security system, top of the notch."

"Could one have been stolen?" Sally asked.

"All passes are kept on the premises," Marshall explained. "Only employees have access to them."

The headache was getting bigger.

"We need to try a different angle," Sally sighed.

Marshall nodded and stretched his tires.

"I'm going for a drive," he said. "Be back soon."

He headed out the door and Sally, not in the mood for a drive, stayed where she was.

"What am I missing?" She asked.

* * *

While Sally and Marshall were trying to figure out how the racers had been abducted, Tex and Doc were trying to figure out the why. Doc and Sheriff had gone with the CEO to his big office on the top floor. It was more homey than Doc had thought, and had a cozy feel to it. Tex poured the two cars some of the finest oil Doc had ever tasted and told the Hudson Hornet to help himself even as Sheriff declined the offer. Doc had been tempted to go back to the hotel room he had booked the previous night, but found himself hesitant to leave. The room would be cold and empty, what with the others driving through the city and Mack probably talking with the other trucks. Here at least he had some quiet company and would be the first to know if any sign of the rookie was found.

Doc rolled to the big window and glanced over the city as he drank. Tex occasionally talked to someone at his desk or made a call, but otherwise he was quiet which left Doc to his thoughts. The bright city faded into the background as Doc began to think. Marshall's words rang in his head, _You two might have to start thinking if you have any enemies that are using your racers to get to you._ At first, Doc had tried to convince himself that such a scenario was ridiculous, but as the day grew on and Sheriff talked with local law enforcement agencies (he wasn't allowed to see the contracts but Tex let Sheriff coordinate with the law enforcement before any word was passed to Marshall in order to not overwhelm his security head), Doc began to think.

If Lightning had been taken for revenge, it would be against him. Rusty and Dusty didn't have any enemies... Or at least, no one with a big enough grudge to carnap their racer. Neither did Mater, Sheriff, or any of Lightning's pit crew, or Sally. That left Doc.

He hadn't really made any enemies after medical school... But he might have on the track. He had been a fierce competitor, unwilling to take second place when he knew he could come in first. He had never cheated or played dirty- he was far too proud for that, but his competitive nature had definitely rubbed some cars the wrong way. But enemies? Doc wasn't certain. But as the memories flooded back he suddenly realized that he didn't really know.

After being rejected from the world of racing he had been so hurt and humiliated that he had left Thomasville without a second thought. Everything that reminded him about his previous life had been there. Smokey, his loyal and steady crew chief. Louise, the feisty female racer who hadn't let anything stop her from racing. River Scott, although they sometimes called him Scott or Scotty, the dirt track racer who was the only one who could rival Doc's drifting. And hot-header Junior Moon, who didn't let anyone tell him what to do except maybe his crew chief.

He had been so selfish. His grief had blinded him and made him leave them all, knowing they would worry about him. He was sure they knew he had gotten into medical school because some old school reporter had written a small article about it.

It was the entry of McQueen that had caused him to reach out to Smokey again. Smokey and Doc had been rather close friends, Smokey acting as a cool head for the young Hudson when his temper got the best of him. And Smokey had written back, informing Doc only that all his friends were alive. He didn't even scold Doc for not writing earlier. Just a 'nice to hear from you.' Although the old truck was usually straight to the point, he would sometimes leave Doc to sweat so that he could learn his lesson... And it usually worked.

Doc sighed as he was shaken out of his thoughts and saw the sun setting. Smokey. He needed to talk to Smokey. He was starting to feel lost without his racer to look out for and mentor so it would be good to see his crew chief again. Besides, Smokey would know if he had any enemies. Smokey always knew.

"Hey Doc," the Sheriff murmured behind Doc, and the Hudson Hornet turned to look at his friend.

"You might want to see this," the car nodded towards the television on the wall. Tex had turned it on earlier during the day but kept it on mute. Now he turned on the volume as Doc and Sheriff rolled up. The Hudson Hornet's mouth formed a grim line as he watched the heard of the racing board announce to the world that Strip Weathers and Lightning McQueen was missing.

"Maybe they'll turn up in a small town somewhere," Tex commented lightly as the news commentators started talking about the race cars who went missing, showing clips from previous races, wins and crashes.

"Maybe," Sheriff said, nodding to himself. "Well, I think we can safely say that this is probably no longer a carnapping."

"No, I don't think so," Doc agreed. "Which means we have to find out who wants our racers."

"Any idea on how to go about that?" Tex asked.

"One," Doc stated. "I need to take a trip."

* * *

By the time Marshall came back Sally had already seen the announcement on one of the smaller television screens. The news was going viral quickly and everyone either had an opinion or were sending their best wishes. She had to stay focused. Stickers needed her. Sally glanced frustrated at the hundreds of names on the screens. What was she missing?

Marshall came and beside her.

"You see the announcement?" Sally asked.

"In the break room," Marshall replied. "It means they're just about as clueless as we are."

"We have to keep looking," Sally said determinedly, pushing a button with her tire to go looking through a list of seaters.

"Miss Sally, I know you're worried," Marshall tried to assure her, tired after a long day of work after a sleepless night. "But we won't be quitting if we rest for the night."

"Quitting..." Sally said quietly. "Quitting!" She rounded quickly on the car, her tires making skid marks on the polished floor. Her mind was racing and she talked fast as she tried to keep up with her thoughts.

"If you were a criminal... or someone involved in kidnapping two high-profile racers, what is the first thing you would do after the job was finished?"

Marshall was a little stunned by her outburst, but grasped the concept and said slowly,

"I would probably lie low for a while... Or..." he headed towards his screen, eyes flicking back and forth before closing. "No. I wouldn't. Not in this town. It's full of racing fans who'd do anything to get their racers back. The racing board has an office here so they'd be breathing hard down my neck," his brown eyes shot open. "I would leave," he finished quietly.

"Exactly!" Sally exclaimed, scrolling down the list. "We just have to see if there's anyone who quit their job!"

Marshall immediately went to the security guard's list. "Everyone who was due to show up, showed up today," he reported. An email alert popped up at the bottom of his screen and he went to it. His eyes widened. "Three Raptors reported their badges missing."

"Someone on the inside," Sally breathed.

"Exactly," Marshall replied. "Go to the cleaners. All of them were scheduled for today."

"On it," Sally and quickly went to settings.

"Let's just hope," Marshall said quietly. "That someone actually quit instead of just skipping their shift."

"That would make things so much easier," Sally agreed and ordered the list she had to update itself so that they could see if any new information had come in through the system.

The two cars waited as the system slowly updated itself and put into place the new filters Sally had asked for. Both of them help their breath as the results filtered in.

"Ok," Sally rolled forward eagerly to read the names on the screen. "Two cars didn't show up for duty today..."

"... And one quit for 'personal reasons'," Marshall finished reading. The two cars looked at each other and grinned.

Marshall spoke first.

"Looks like we got ourselves a suspect."


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's chapter 6. Siddeley is the plane Holly and Finn work with.**

* * *

After watching the announcement from the racing board with Rusty and Dusty, Guido and Luigi just wanted to turn in. All of the cars were tired, and while a day of driving through the city had provided adequate distraction, most of the group were feeling depressed again as no news as to the wherabouts of McQueen arrived. Despite the other cars' despondent mood, Ramone and Sarge urged them to make a quick trip to the Dinoco building to check on Sally, Doc and Sheriff's progress.

The other cars reluctantly agreed except for Rusty and Dusty who had to prepare a statement for the press. The cars were quiet as they drove slowly through the city, blending in with the cars driving back from work after a long day.

"Ah! McQueen's pit crew," the receptionist coed as the cars entered. "Come in, come in"

"We're just here to check up on Doc," Sarge bristled at the older car's overbearing personality.

"Of course, of course," the receptionist said, ushering them towards the huge elevator. "I was actually waiting for you to come. I called your hotel but they said you were out."

"Is there news?" Luigi asked, eagerly.

"I think so," the receptionist said, lowering her voice. "Mr. Dinoco called a meeting on the 5th floor conference room. I understand Marshall and Miss Sally are going to be there. Oh, I knew they'd find something!"

The excitable car led them towards a set of huge class doors. one which was already propped open. Sarge went in first, followed by Fillmore, Ramone, Luigi, and Guido with Mater tagging along at the the rear.

"Mr. Dinoco," Mater exclaimed, seeing the Dinoco car talking to Marshall. "Have you found McQueen and Mr. the King yet?"

"Not yet, Mater," Tex said, but his voice had a touch of optimism in it. "But it looks like Marshall here has a lead."

"Thanks to Miss. Sally," Marshall nodded to the tired looking blue Porsche.

"Oh, it was a team effort," Sally shrugged.

"Yo, Sally, you gonna show us what you found?" Ramone asked.

"Of course," Marshal said, and pressed a button so that the flat screen on the end of the table turned on. The cars crowded along the glass table. Marshall, Tex, Sally, Doc and Sheriff were on one side, while the other cars crowded at the other side, Luigi and Guido pushing for the front.

The lights dimmed and on the screen there flickered to life a 1940 Buick century Ford.

"This," Marshall started. "Is Louise Phillips. She was a cleaner at the track until this morning, when she quit. I've checked her records, and it turns out Louise Phillips is actually a yellow car and living in a retirement village close by. We have thus determined that Louise Phillips is _not_ this car's name. She is, however, our number one suspect."

"But how could she have possibly kidnapped two race cars?" Sarge blurted. There was no way such an old car would be able to overpower two racers.

"She stole three security badges," Sally explained. "And that's how she got the other cars onto the track."

"Do we know why yet?" Fillmore asked.

"No," Marshall said. "But I think it's safe to assume it's not a carnapping."

"So what's the next step from here?" Sarge asked, ready for action.

"We track down our suspect," Marshall nodded to the picture. "OR, more accurately, we ask the local authorities to do it. I'm already searching through any system I have access to as to her real identity."

"There's nothing more we can do," Sally sighed.

"You did good work," Tex complimented. "I suggest we all go get some shut eye. It'll be a long day tomorrow."

The cars nodded in agreement, muttering among each other.

"I'm not staying in Dallas," Doc suddenly said, and all the cars snapped silent. At everyone's inquisitive looks, he elaborated. "This was no accident. We need to find out why Weathers and the rookie were taken. I may know someone who can help and Mack said he'll drive me there."

"Well... where is is, Doc?" Sally asked a bit worriedly.

"Small town in Georgia," Doc muttered.

"That's almost 12 hours away," Sarge exclaimed.

"Yo, man, can't you just call?" Ramone asked.

"No," Doc almost snapped. "I've made up my mind. And if you prohibit Mack in any way I'll drive myself."

All the cars looked at each other hesitatingly. Those from Radiator Springs knew Doc was the most stubborn machine in town and nothing could change his mind once it was set. But the thought of Doc just taking off to Georgia unsettled them.

Tex was the one who broke the silence.

"Sounds like a grand idea," he said enthusiastically. "I'll ask Gray if he can take me as well."

"What?" Both Doc and Marshall asked as once.

"I'm coming too," Sheriff announced after the shock had worn off. "You'll both need someone to take care of you."

"No, this isn't what I want-," Doc tried to protest but Tex cut him off.

"I've had a hankering to get out of town the last few days. This'll be the perfect opportunity," the oil baron said, pushing Doc gently out of the door. The Hudson Hornet rolled next to the baron, shocked into silence for one of the few times in his life.

Marshall opened his mouth, ready to protest his boss just skipping town.

"Don't worry, Marshall," Tex called out, not even looking behind him. "I'm sure the Sheriff will take quite good care of me. Go get some sleep, you did well today."

Marshall was half tempted to call out to Tex about his security detail, but the Sheriff cut him off with a 'I'll keep you informed," so Marshall just shook his head and left well enough alone. Tex wasn't a stupid car but he liked jumping at opportunities. Maybe he saw this as one. Besides, the Chevrolet Silverado was exhausted after a long day and knew he would need some rest.

"Good night all," he said, then, "Miss Sally, are you inclined to meeting me back here tomorrow early? I could sure use your help sorting through all the information."

"Absolutely," Sally said, happy to have found something to keep her mind occupied with during the search for her boyfriend. "Is 7 ok?"

"7 is just fine," Marshall said, and after saying goodnight, went to his room on the security floor. He has a nice house in the city but when he was on a case preferred to stay at the office so that he could start early the next day. The other cars filed out after him, tired but optimistic at the fact that they had a lead. Sally found herself between Fillmore and Sarge and she relaxed, dozing slightly as they made sure she didn't drive into anything.

"Yo, Mater," Ramone asked as they reached the foyer. "Where you going?"

"Um... Washroom," Mater replied. "Ya'll go on ahead." The tow truck practically fled to the marked sign, and the other cars merely shrugged and made their way back to the hotel.

* * *

"Calling Finn and Holly, calling Finn and Holly," Mater chanted, focusing on the small device Holly had installed. He glanced around to make sure no one was sneaking up on him.

Static crackled over the line before he heard Finn's voice.

"We hear you Mater. What have you got for us?" The spy asked.

"Well, Marshall and Sally got a suspect," Mater said quickly. "She's a light brown 1940 Buick century Ford who posed as a cleaner. She said her name was Louise Phillips but Marshall was clever enou' to figure out she was lyin'. Seems she stole some security badges so that them nasty Raptors could get in and take McQueen and Mr. The King!"

"Excellent work Mater," Finn praised.

"Shoot, I didn't do nothing," Mater scraped his tire on the floor. "Oh, before I forget," he crouched down low as if he could make himself quieter that way. "Doc and Mr. Tex Dinoco are going to Georgia. Doc said something 'bout figuring out why McQueen was taken."

"Georgia?" Holly's voice floated through the line. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"Don't know," Mater shrugged.

"How are they getting there?" Finn asked.

"Seem Mack and Gray are going to take them. Mack's McQueen's driver," Mater explained.

"Hmm, well thank you, Mater," Finn thanked the tow truck. "You keep us posted."

"Will do!" Mater said cheerfully, forgetting all about secrecy for a while.

"Bye Mater!" Holly called out before Finn ended the call. Mater, extremely pleased with himself, drove back to the hotel in the sunset. When he arrived there, he found out him and Ramone were going to have to share a room. Luigi and Guido already had a room booked, along with Sarge and Fillmore. Sally took Doc's room, which they had just re-booked for an extra night.

As Mater admired the cute little nightlight with it's yellow bulb, he heard Sarge and Fillmore grumbling in the other room.

"Will you stop swaying man?" Sarge snapped.

"It helps me relax," Fillmore whined.

Soon everything settled down, and comforted by the secure sense of familiarity, Mater dozed off.

* * *

Holly looked carefully at Finn, not daring to interrupt his thought process just yet by speaking, but she was burning with questions inside.

"What do you think?" The spy finally asked her. The two were holed up in a small flat above the office where they had met Mater earlier.

"Oh... um... About us going?" Holly was surprised. Finn, as the senior agent, usually made most of the difficult decisions and Holly was happy to follow. Finn was open to her opinion but it was unusual for him to ask for it.

"About the Hudson Hornet and Tex Dinoco going to Georgia," Finn explained. "Especially seeing as the former seems to have an idea why the racers were kidnapped."

"You suspected it had something to do with Grem," Holly remembered.

"Yes, and I still do," Finn explained. "But I can't help feeling there's something more going on. Something we're missing."

"It is possible," Holly thought out loud, slowly. "That Grem is working for someone else. Maybe someone Tex Dinoco knows?"

"Or the Hudson Hornet," Finn replied. "But the question is whether we should follow them with Siddeley or stay here."

Holly was silent for a moment before saying, "I think we should follow them."

At Finn's look she elaborated.

"It may sound a little strange, but I think just like you have a sort of 'spy sense' you follow, the Hudson Hornet might have a sense that may not completely make sense to us at the moment. That, or his informant doesn't have a phone."

"I think you may be right, Holly," Finn mused.

"But one of us would have to stay here to keep an eye on things," Holly continued. "This is where the initial investigation is going on, even if they have been taken out of the city."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Finn said with a small smirk.

"But we don't have anymore agents in the city," Holly protested.

"We have something better than an agent," Finn stated. "Phone Siddeley and tell him to meet us at the airport in an hour. We need to make a small detour first."

* * *

"McMissile," a figure crept out of the shadows.

Holly's gun immediately shot out from her tire and aimed at the figure. Her and Finn had been driving to the airport when Finn had taken a turn into Irving, a residential neighborhood. He stopped in front of house 19 and that's when the mystery car had appeared.

"Easy there, Holly," Finn put a tire out to block her. "He's a friend. Aren't you, Redline?"

"Yeah, you could say that," a blue Detroit Muscle car rolled out and Holly gasped.

"Is that...?"

"Red 'Torque' Redline," Finn nodded.

"But you're supposed to be dead?" Holly whispered, not wanting to wake any civilians.

"Yeah, well, almost was," Red stated. "Took me than an engine exploding to keep me down though. What do you want, McMissile?" He turned the British spy testily.

"Only a little favour," Finn replied good-naturedly.

"Yeah, well I think you're the one who owes me one," Rod said curtly. "I'm the one who told you about McQueen going missing."

"Are you on the case too?" Holly asked.

"I'm retired," Rod stated. "But my kid brother's friends with the guy. Called me when he got home."

The pieces fell together in Holly's head.

"So this is your secret contact?" She asked Finn.

"Guilty," Rod ground out. "So what is it, McMissile?"

"We want you," Finn started slowly, but not to the point where it was patronizing or irritating. "To keep an eye on things for us."

"You leaving town?" Rod guessed.

"For a while, yes," Finn explained. "We have a lead that's taking us to Georgia, but if anything happens here we need you to contact us."

"Sounds easy enough," Rod nodded. "Anything else I should know?"

"The Dinoco security team has a suspect," Finn continued. "A 1940 Buick century Ford. Female who went under the alias Louise Phillips. I doubt she will now that it's been discovered."

"Maybe if she doesn't know they know," Rod shrugged. "Any idea as to her real identity?"

"We're hoping to look her up as soon as we reach Siddeley."

There was a moment of silence between the cars as Rod drove out of the driveway onto the road and towards the direction of the airport. Holly looked at Finn curiously but the Aston Martin just shook his head and followed the Muscle car.

"Alright, Finn," Rod said as they reached the airport. "I'll report back to you on whatever happens here. Just keep me posted on your position."

"Thank you, Rod," Finn smiled charmingly. "And don't do anything dangerous."

"Yeah, yeah," Rod said in a disregarding tone of voice. "Take care." He didn't spare Holly a nod as he rolled away.

"Not very friendly, is he?" Holly whispered as the two passed airport security and drove over to Siddeley.

"He's a little tough," Finn admitted. "But he's not so bad after you to get know him."

"How did you meet him?" Holly asked.

"Let me give Siddeley his instructions and I'll tell you."

Finn told Siddeley who to follow and where they were going as Holly settled down in a chair and started looking through their databases for 'Louise Phillips'. Long plane ride as this was going to be, she was looking forward to hearing Finn's story.

* * *

 **I noticed a lot of people were upset at the death of Rod Redline so I decided to give him a little cameo in this story. Bonus points to whoever can figure out which racer his brother is.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here's chapter 7**

* * *

Doc couldn't quite believe he was doing this. Neither could Tex actually. But both cars were in their respective racers' trailers' as Mack and Gray hauled them towards the highway that connected Dallas to Georgia. Sheriff would ride with Doc later, but insisted on going ahead and providing a police escort for the first part of the drive.

The two cars could have driven themselves but it was best if they didn't. Tex liked cruising and his slow speed would have eventually irritated Doc to the point where he would drive ahead on his own. However, Doc would have tired himself out quickly that way. It was better to let two professionals take them who were good at pacing themselves.

Mack was a little worried about how long the drive was, but he was confident that with another truck to talk to he would be able to stay awake until they reached the halfway point where he could rest for an hour or two.

Inside the trailer, Doc's head was spinning but he felt surprisingly calm inside.

"What am I doing?" He asked himself quietly. He had never wanted to go back to Thomasville before. He had left that place in a blaze of anger and rejection and had built up a life for himself on the other side of the country. Now he was running back there like some little car who had been scared by a tractor. And for what?

And that's when Doc looked at his surroundings and knew.

The trailer was far too flashy for Doc's liking. Little model cars, posters, bright lights, and loud paint. All of them sporting Lightning McQueen. And that's why he was going back to Thomasville. McQueen was what made him go back to the racing world, and McQueen was now making him go back home. If he had any enemies, they would have come from there. Doc was sure of that.

Meanwhile, Tex was thinking about his own actions in Cal's trailer. It hadn't changed much from Strip since Cal had taken possession of it. A bit more flashy maybe, but that's what young uns' did.

Sometimes the billionaire surprised himself with how spontaneous he could be. There was no reason to come with Doc, no logical reason at all. But inside of his engine he had felt a tug. It was the same tug he felt before he had landed his first big deal, and the tug had served him well. Tex had just reckoned that some things couldn't be explained with logic so he didn't dwell too much on it. He hoped to goodness that they would find a lead on McQueen. Then they would hopefully find a lead on Strip.

The 'tug' as he had become accustomed to calling it over the years was also what prompted him to sign Weathers in the first place. Throughout his career, Tex still felt like that was the best decision he had ever made. Not only did it give him the best racer the brand had ever sponsored, but it gave Tex a very valuable friend. Two friends actually. While Strip was on the track, Lynda and Tex would always sit together. Sometimes she would fret and he would reassure her, sometimes he would struggle after a particularly hard day, and she would remind him that even if a deal went south, he would still be alright with cars caring for him.

Despite the long day, Tex really struggled to fall asleep, worry gnawing at his brain. He was used to solving problems, not sitting around and waiting for them to be solved. But as Mack and Gray reached a double-lane highway and Mack loaded Sheriff up into the trailer, the two trucks drove side by side into the night. The grumbling murmur of their conversation lulled Tex to sleep.

Outside, Gray and Mack didn't really know where they were going to end up. But willing to do anything for their racers, and with Mack's assurance in Doc, the two continued into the night, headlights lighting the way to what would hopefully be a trip towards answers.

* * *

Unaware of their friends breakthrough in their case, Lightning and Strip were still sitting quietly after the announcement by the head of the racing board. The almost relaxed mode from earlier was gone and the reality of their situation, as well as their cluelessness to why they were abducted was beginning to sink in.

"Well, well," one of the Raptors said as a car entered. The two prisoners looked up, vaguely interested.

"How was your flight, Deborah?" The Ford Fiesta asked.

"Very well, thank you, Rick" the voice came from a light brown Buick century Ford, who looked and sounded almost like Lizzy. "Thank you again for your assistance."

"You're not paying us," the Raptor with the bent grill turned back towards the television.

"You made it out just in time," The Fiesta, who the two prisoners now knew was called Rick, replied. "The racing board just announced them missing."

"Serves them right," Deborah nearly spat out. "I hope this season completely fails. Two more cars off that death trap!"

"Death trap!" McQueen exclaimed, going forward as far as he could before Strip could stop him. The old car rounded on him, eyes squinting.

"Yes," she seethed. "Death trap. Young cars like yourself driving at unholy speeds, putting themselves and others at risk."

McQueen was just about to throw back a fiery retort when Strip intervened.

"I'm sure Miss. Deborah here has a good reason for her notion on racing," he said slowly. "Even if the same can't be said for her actions."

"What?" Lightning looked confused. "What did she have to do with anything?"

"Cleaner's badge," Strip nodded to the old car's door. Turning to Deborah, he elaborated. "You worked for the track to steal security badges." Tex had explained the new security system with great pride to him.

"That's right," the old car said proudly, nodding her head. "And I don't regret it either. Now have you boys had something to drink?"

McQueen, ready to give the old car a piece of his mind for helping the Raptors kidnap them was stunned into silence by the sudden change in her demeanor. The old car went from fiery old-lady to doting grandmother.

"Yes... Thank you," Strip managed to reply.

"I'll get you another one," Deborah said, turning sharply towards the counter. McQueen and Weathers looked at each other surprised before shuffling closer.

"What happened to you?" The Buick asked, seeing how Strip was moving slower and more carefully than McQueen.

"Just a small accident," Strip replied.

"Bulwark over there crashed into him," McQueen elaborated, glaring and nodding towards a Raptor. Deborah rounded on the car angrily.

"Now why'd you go and do a thing like that for?" She snapped.

"Hey, 43 was giving us a hard time!" The car replied. "Nothing broken."

The security guards had taken to called the race cars by their numbers, not bothered enough to use their real names.

Rick quickly drove in front of the fuming race car.

"Now, Deborah," he said smoothly. "It was just a bit of a misunderstanding, that's all. Even Frank's grill was bent out of shape a bit. No need to be alarmed." He steered the lady over to a bar. "Go on. Have a drink. Soon the boss will be in and you can discuss the next step with him."

Deborah nodded and went over to a low table, but didn't take anything to drink. She seemed quite destitute and tired, and Lightning looked at Strip confused. The young race car was still angry that this car had aided in their capture, which might cost him the rest of the season, but he had enough sense to know that something had been eating at this car for many years. Strip knew it as well, and suspected a bitterness that was decades old judging by the old car's appearance and general demeanor.

So after Rick and the Raptors had turned back to the television and forgotten about the group, the retired racer gently asked,

"Miss Deborah... why do you want us off the race track?"

"Because it's dangerous," was the curt reply. Then, "You should know that. You almost died during your last race."

"You mean the crash?" Strip asked. At the old car's sharp looked he shrugged. "Suppose I could have. That's part of the sport."

"My son always said that," the old car said bitterly. "Until he crashed and died."

She said this with a bluntness that Strip knew had been fueling her bitterness for years.

"Your son?" McQueen asked, shifting forward. "What was his name?"

"Don't matter," Deborah muttered. "He raced against that Hudson Hornet one time. Crash almost killed him as well."

"I'm sorry," McQueen glanced down.

"Don't matter," the old car said. "All that matters is that I'm finally gunna get the racing board to shut down the sport."

"What! No!" McQueen exclaimed.

"It's for the best!" The old car retorted. "Monroe agrees with me."

"Who's Monroe?" Strip cut in, eyes narrowing somewhat.

"The one who paid for all this," Deborah waved around with her tire. "You think I could afford to do this on a cleaner's salary."

"Well, Monroe won't succeed," McQueen bit out. "You'll never shut down racing!" Panic crept into McQueen's voice at the thought of his career, his passion, his _life_ being ripped out from under him.

"You'll find something else to do!" Deborah said venomously.

"Racing is my life!" McQueen protested.

"Like it was the _Fabulous_ Hudson Hornet's?" The old cars green eyes narrowed. "Or my son's? Your crew chief got off lucky, not dying and being kicked off the track."

"He did not," McQueen's engine reved, and he would have raced forward if not for the clamp, holding his tire in place.

"Kid, stop it," Strip snapped, sending Lightning a look that would have rivaled Doc's any day. McQueen was quaking with anger but managed to reign his emotions in. Strip let the tension between the three cars subside before he talked again.

"Miss Deborah," he said gently. "Why did Monroe approach you?"

Strip was feeling a bit of an internal struggle in all honesty. He didn't like shouting at McQueen but the rookie was loosing his temper and it was causing Deborah to flare back with words she knew would hurt the racer. He needed Deborah in a reasonable frame of mind. Strip's compassionate side wanted to talk to the old car and help her through her bitterness, but he knew he had to prioritize. And right now his top priority was to find out why an ex-race car and a rookie had been abducted.

"He heard of me protesting the track," Deborah stated. "He approached me one night and said if we managed to shake the board up enough, maybe they would listen."

"Is that why you took the King?" Lightning asked a little flippantly, but with a bit of interest. Although tired from the track, Strip Weathers was still a prominent figure on the circuit.

Strip knew this and was secretly wishing that he wasn't so normal. Normalcy was to stick around the track after retiring from racing. Maybe he and Lynda should have taken a leaflet out of Hudson's book and just found a small town to live in.

"Yeah," the old car said. "He said if we took a racer and a veteran, we would really get people's attention. You weren't supposed to get hurt though," the old car looked a little apologetic. "It was for your own safety." She looked specifically at McQueen.

"Thanks," McQueen said mildly, not really touched by the old car's words.

Strip decided to try a new tactic. It was clear the old car believed she was doing the right thing and that trying to convince her otherwise wouldn't work.

"Is there any way you can let us make a phone call?" He asked.

At the car's suspicious look he quickly continued.

"It's just that we have family that we know are worried. Kid's got a girlfriend and a best friend, and I got a wife and nephew."

The old car looked down, a conflicted look on her face.

"No," she suddenly said, shaking her head. "Monroe told me that that Dinoco fellow would be able to trace calls or somethin'."

 _Tex_ Strip thought with a jolt. Thankfully Deborah didn't see it.

"Please," Lightning asked. "Sally's probably worried sick."

"I said no!" The old car cried out. With a sharp twist she turned her wheels and stormed out of the room.

The two race cars looked after her before Lightning muttered,

"Wow. She took her son's death real hard."

Strip nodded.

"Wait... Did you hear what she said about Tex?" Lightning whispered quietly.

"I did," Strip replied. "I guess we know why I'm here then."

Lightning shuddered.

"What about me though?" He asked.

Strip didn't have an answer for him.

* * *

The race cars, both tired from a day full of stress eventually started dozing soon after Deborah left. Strip feel into a deeper sleep than McQueen, as the rookie's nerves were more high strung and worry over his racing career and friends gnawed at him. He didn't hear as another car rolled into the room, but he heard him speak.

"Everything in order?" He asked Rick.

"Yes, boss," Rick replied. "No trouble from any side whatsoever. What about with our contributor?"

"He's most pleased at our efficiency," Monroe stated. At least, McQueen thought it was Monroe. He was the boss, right?

"His little sidekick was in here earlier," the Raptor McQueen had nicknamed Bulwark spoke up. "Acted like he was running the place."

"Well, just remember where your paycheck comes from."

McQueen cracked his eyes open just a fraction. A dull red Nissan Sentra was talking to the raptors, his back turned to the two race cars. At least they had a description now.

"When will he be here for the red one?" Rick asked.

 _The red one?_ McQueen almost jumped.

"Sometime tomorrow," Monroe said in a smooth voice. "Once he's gone, we'll haul the blue one to Dallas if Dinoco doesn't show up yet."

McQueen was on the verge of having a panic attack but forced himself to close his eyes completely and act like he was sleeping. He couldn't give away that he was awake, he needed to find out what he could.

"Sure thing, boss," Rick replied, and McQueen could almost hear the Raptors roll their eyes. They were clearly only here for the paycheck.

"That'll teach Dinoco to steal from me," Monroe said with satisfaction, before turning and driving out of the room.

McQueen's thoughts were left racing and it took all of his willpower to breath slowly. Who was the contributor? And what was going to happen to him? This was clearly not about racing. That old car who they met earlier had been duped, that was for sure!

Little did Lightning know, the old car was beginning to figure that out.

* * *

 **Deborah is the mother of the race car that Doc flipped over in Cars 3 flashback. Thanks to someone's review, I found out his name is Leroy Hemming. This would make Deborah, Deborah Hemming.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Here's chapter 8**

* * *

"Rusty... Dusty..." Lynda rolled towards the 95 sponsors coming towards her. "Thank you both for comin'."

"We came as soon as we got your message," Rusty said.

"We have our statement prepared and everything," Dusty added. "We spent the whole night memorizing it."

"Well, maybe not the whole night," Rusty admitted. "Two old cars like us need our sleep."

Lynda smiled slightly, happy that the sponsors were acting so... normal, even if they were a nervous bundle of nerves.

The three cars were in front of the Dinoco building. It was 7, and they were going to give an official statement to the press 7:30. Marshall was on the side talking to one of the security forklifts, the angry one who always seemed to have a temper. Lynda had sent Cal to visit with Bobby so that the two race cars could spend the day together. There was no reason for her nephew to be involved in all of this.

While Lynda had talked to the press before, it had usually been with Strip or Tex at her side. She wasn't really nervous, but it was a comfort to have the two chatty Rusteze sponsors to back her up. The Dinoco spokeswoman had offered to make the announcement for her, but Lynda had declined. She needed to do her bit to get her husband back, even if it was just talking to the press.

"Mrs. Weathers," Dinoco's spokeswoman rolled up to her. "They're ready for you."

"Thank you," Lynda said, and with Dusty and Rusty smiling encouragingly in the background, she rolled in front of the cameras.

* * *

"As you all know, the racing board announced the disappearance of my husband and a younger race car, Lightning McQueen, last evening."

Strip looked up at the television.

"Dinoco's security team is following every lead they can, as are local law enforcement agencies. I'd like to thank all of them for their bravery and dedication to finding our two lost racers."

McQueen, despite being bored stiff at the thought of another day just waiting for rescue, remained quiet.

"I'd like to encourage everyone to keep looking. If all racing fans, or even non-racing fans could stay a little bit more alert than usual, I'm sure we'll eventually find them."

Deborah, who was on her way to confront Monroe, hesitated at the doorway as she saw the television.

"To whoever's got them, I ask that you release them. No charges will be pressed on our side at least," she nodded back to Rusty and Dusty who nodded eagerly in return.

The Raptors didn't care.

"I know they're famous race cars," Lynda continued. "But you have to consider that they're more than that. They're a husband, a boyfriend, a partner-in-crime, and a friend."

Looking straight into the camera, hoping that Strip could see her, Lynda smiled a soft sad smile.

"We don't want to press charges. We just want them back safely."

Strip smiled back at the camera, and despite the grimness of their situation, felt lighter than he had the previous day.

Lightning edged forward as Rusty and Dusty came onto the screen. After prattling about how they agreed with everything Mrs. Weathers had said and reward money (even though their reward money wasn't nearly as much as Tex Dinoco had offered) Rusty said, "And McQueen, if you're listening... Don't drive like my brother."

The old running joke, although not coming out nearly as strongly as Rusty wanted, still made McQueen chuckle.

"And don't drive like my brother!" Dusty called out as they two left the podium.

"I won't," McQueen said quietly, his smile matching Strip's beside him. Unbeknownst to them, the old car was watching their faces from the doorway. She noticed their expressions were completely unguarded and eager to see how their family were doing without them. At that moment he resolve started breaking and she realized how her vendetta were affecting the two cars. They had been abducted, taken away from their families and the security of their home.

"What have I done?"

* * *

"Well, this is interesting," Finn stated, drinking some morning oil.

"What is?" Holley asked, coming next to him and looking at the screen.

"Our suspect," Finn replied. "Turns out her real name is Deborah Hemming."

"Widowed 50 years ago," Holley read. "Only child deceased. Criminal record... Oh." The purple car looked surprised.

"She's been arrested twice for protesting the race track," Finn said out loud. Holley was more than capable of reading the information by herself, but the old spy had come to learn that talking out loud, even about the obvious, helped to encourage ideas and theories.

"So why carnap two racers then?" Holley frowned. "It doesn't look like she has to means to hire somebody to help her. And there's no way she could have carnapped them by herself."

"I think she's being used," Finn mused. "It's just a hunch but she seems like the type of car that could be persuaded to do something illegal with enough convincing."

"And with the right motivation," Holley added. "Maybe Grem convinced her that the season would stop with Lightning gone."

"It's a possibility," Finn agreed. "Siddeley, where are we now?" He called out to the pilot.

"Almost above Georgia, sir," the airplane replied.

Siddeley had been following Gray and Mack throughout the night. Well, mostly making circles above them due to both trucks being much slower than he was. It was pretty easy to predict where they were going as soon as they got on the highway and they stopped only once for a brief rest. Siddeley had taken the opportunity to rest as well in a field further north while Finn had kept an eye on the trucks. They had rested from 1 til 3 in the morning before resuming the long trek. It was now nearly 7 and Siddeley could feel the sun warming up his side as he made another turn above the trucks.

"They just missed the turn off towards the Capitol," the pilot called out. "Wherever they're going, Finn, I can't guarantee that there will be a space big enough for me to land."

"That's alright, Siddeley," Finn said, zooming into the map on the screen. "Let me know when you find a place near the road to land. I think I know where Hudson's going."

"I can't possibly see what destination they have in mind," Siddeley looked down. "All I see is trees."

"He's right," Holley stated, looking at some aerial photographs. "What could possibly be out here that would help them find the lost racers.

Finn smiled secretly before replying

"Thomasville."

* * *

 **This chapter is a little short but that's in order for the next one to be longer. And I think you'll want it to be longer...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here's the chapter I know some of you have been waiting for. I hope you enjoy! The lines between Doc and Sheriff regarding tires was inspired by NurfHurdur's Life's Highway Chapter 19.**

* * *

"We're here."

It had been a long, _long, long_ drive for the two trucks, and they were more than relieved when their passengers had gotten out of the trailers and driven ahead of them. The two hours sleep had been a life saver, but it was now almost midday and they were exhausted.

"Good," Mack yawned, pulling over to the side of the road. "You go ahead. We're gonna catch...a... nap."

The truck was out cold in only a few seconds. Gray pulled over in front of him and passed out as well.

"Where exactly is here?" Sheriff asked Doc. This part of the country was completely unknown to him. Ever since they left the highway they had been following an old but worn road through the forest. It was impossible to see anything due to the high trees, and the Sheriff felt like he was in one of those fairy tale story books. Doc hadn't been exactly forthcoming with information, which was starting to grate on the old car's nerves.

Doc only went a little further up the hill and Sheriff's jaw nearly dropped. A huge sign was set up on the hill reading 'Thomasville Speedway'. That didn't really surprise him. But what did surprise him was his good friend of 20 years smiling back at him from the worn sign.

"Ain't that you on there?" Tex asked, shaking Sheriff out of his referee.

"Yes," Doc replied, and that's when Sheriff got it. Of course! This was Doc's old town! This must have been his home base, just like Radiator Spring was McQueen's. When Doc first came to town, the Sheriff had done some research as to where the stranger had been from. But that had been years ago, and he had respected Doc's privacy and not told anyone else. Over the years the memory just faded into oblivion.

"So this is where-" Sheriff asked, but was rendered speechless again.

The Thomasville speedway. It was right below them. Doc was already rolling down the hill and Tex followed, only to eager to see the old track.

It was in a poor state. The lights were broken, the stands rickety. Old posters peeled from the wall and the latch on the gate had fallen off years ago.

"This place is dangerous," Sheriff muttered.

"It has character," Tex murmured, breathing it all in.

Doc didn't hear them. He went right onto a track and took a deep breath. Vivid memories, filled with colours thundered to life around him. The _Fabulous Hudson Hornet_. For a few seconds, Doc forgot all about his crash, his rejection, and the hurt. All he could see and feel was the dirt beneath his tires, the adrenaline rush of the race, the _roar_ of the fans around him. The satisfaction of accomplishing a perfect drift that left his opponents choking on dirt, the thrill of being nose to nose with another car, and finally, the sweet taste of victory. This was racing. Not the money, not the sponsors, not the politics. It was... this.

Doc smiled- Really smiled, for the first time in a long time. And it stayed as he let the memories of the glory days flood over him. His glory days. This track's glory days.

 _The Fabulous Hudson Hornet Wins Again_

 _His whole crew will be celebrating_

 _Start your engines_

 _Is that a lady on the tracks?_

 _What a race! What a race..._

Slowly, the memories faded away, and the track in front of Doc's vision turned back into it's old, beaten state. The crowds stopped roaring and silence replaced them. The dirt under his tires still felt the same, but he realized that he wasn't wearing a racing pair. Then he finally registered where he was, even if why he was here was a little foggy.

Someone behind him cleared their throat and it took him a minute, like as if he was coming out of a dream, to remember that it was Sheriff.

"Why don't you... Take a lap?" His friend suggested.

"Not the right tires," Doc replied absentmindedly.

"That never stopped you before."

The three cars turned sharply back towards the gate, Sheriff driving ahead a few paces, ready to intervene in case of trouble. An old pick-up truck stood there, with a faded orange paint-job. His keen gray eyes flitted over Tex and Sheriff before settling on Doc.

"You know this guy, Doc?" Sheriff mumbled. Doc acted as if he didn't hear him and slowly drove forward, looking as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.

"Well," the pick up truck said, narrowing it's eyes the at Hudson Hornet. "You're finally here."

"You know why?" Doc ground out, but there was a nervous edge to it.

"Of course," the truck said. Then with a sudden smile he burst out. "You must be thirsty. All of you, come on!"

Sheriff could only blink in surprise, but Tex immediately swooped forward in all his Texan glory.

"Well, thank you kindly, sir!" He boomed. "And tell me, Doc, who might this fine gentlecar be?"

"This here is Smokey," Doc nodded towards the pick up truck. "My old crew. Smokey, this is my good friend Sheriff and Tex Dinoco."

"And what a delight it is to meet you," Tex said cheerfully. Sheriff, bristling at the billionaire's control of the situation, cut right in, going right next to the pickup truck as he drove out.

"So, you were Doc's crew chief," the old car asked.

"I was," Smokey replied. "And no one called him 'Doc' back then."

"What exactly was he called back then?" Sheriff asked, brimming with curiosity.

"Just Hud," Smokey replied.

Tex fell back, letting the Sheriff chat with Smokey.

"You alright?" He asked Doc quietly.

"Hm... yeah, yeah," Doc replied, although his tone lacked the usual bite he would usually give in response to a question like that. "Just a little overwhelming."

Doc watched Smokey and Sheriff chat in silence until they reached the Cotter Pin Bar and Grill.

"This place still standing?" He asked Smokey humourously.

"Barely, Doc," Smokey replied with the same tone of voice. With no malice he added, "No thanks to you."

The pick up truck burst in.

"Junior, hide the moonshine!" he called out. "We got ourselves a lawman here."

"Lawman?" Sheriff sputtered. _Moonshine_. He thought to himself. He pushed in behind the pick up truck and glanced around the bar. The band had stopped playing and everyone was looking at him expectantly. Sheriff looked for young cars, or anyone who might seem overly intoxicated. Seeing nothing of the kind, and feeling a bit uncomfortable, he used his discernment.

"Umm... well, this isn't really my jurisdiction..."

Smokey grinned and drove inside. As he made his way towards a back corner booth, some of the other cars stared unbelieving at Doc behind him.

"Well, Smokey?" An old tan car with pink strips asked. "Any reason for almost giving us an engine failure?"

Smokey grinned.

"I wanted to test yer reserve."

The pick up truck moved out of the way leaving Hudson exposed to his three old friends. Doc shot them a shaky, unsure smiled that reminded Sheriff of McQueen a few years ago with Sally. He backed up in between Tex and Smokey to give the cars some privacy.

Lou was the first to react.

"HUD!" She exclaimed, going towards him. "You're here."

"Hey Lou," the car said, a tad nervously.

"Hud, old boy, come here!" River was next. "Come here and let me look at you."

"Not much different," Doc shrugged.

"Don't flatter yourself," Junior Moon said. "You aged, just like the rest of us."

"I aged _better_ than all of you," Doc shot back.

"What are you talking about?" River asked.

"Hey now, River, why're you giving the old car a hard time?" Lou teased.

"Yeah, respect your seniors," Moon shot back.

"Oh, in that case should I be calling you sirs and lady?" Doc was smiling now.

The cars kept chatting and badgering Doc with questions. It reminded Sheriff of Lightning, Bobby and Cal. Those three went on like it was nobody's business. And it wasn't, not really.

"I take it you're here about Doc's boy that went missing?" Smokey leaned over and whispered to Sheriff.

"Correct," Sheriff nodded. "Doc seems to think you can help us find him."

"I don't know what he thinks I can do," Smokey admitted. "But I'll ask him later."

"Yes," Sheriff agreed. "This is important."

Sheriff turned back to see Doc surrounded by his friends, asking questions and badgering each other with insults all at once. The band went on playing quietly in the corner and the other cars went back to their drinks. An odd look was still thrown towards the booth in the corner every now and then but there was enough discernment in the town to know that 'Hud' needed to catch up with his old friends first.

By the by River glanced behind Doc to see Sheriff and Tex still standing there.

"Well, Hud," He nudged the _slightly_ younger car with his tire. "Aren't ye gonna introduce us?"

Doc glanced behind him.

"Oh... right," he had almost forgotten about the cars travelling with him. "This here is Sheriff, the local law enforcement in Radiator Springs."

"Pleasure to meet any friends of Doc," Sheriff nodded. He appreciated that Doc had other, older friends, but these other cars had better just realize that _he_ was Doc's friend in Radiator Springs.

"And that there is Tex Dinoco," Doc nodded behind him and Tex rolled forward. "He's a billionaire."

It was at that moment that Tex realized that there were no secrets in Thomasville.

"Billionaire, huh?" Lou asked.

"Means the next round's on you," River stated.

Tex also realized at that moment that he wouldn't be treated any differently because of his wealth in Thomasville. And that suited him just fine.

"What about the next two rounds?" Tex asked. "In exchange for some stories about the Fabulous Hudson Hornet here?"

The three cars glanced at each other.

"You better go open up a tab," Moon stated. Tex grinned and turned towards the bar.

"So, tell me, Sheriff," Lou asked the car. "What's old Hud up to these days other than teaching that kid of his how to race on asphalt?"

"Well, he's our town Doctor," Sheriff started, and the other cars nodded. "And also our judge."

"Ohh, a judge," Moon swooned. "You sure you're qualified, Huddy, what with everything you've done before?"

Doc shot his friend a playful glare.

"I'd love to more hear about that," Sheriff said casually, driving forward.

"I'm sure you would," Doc responded dryly. "I didn't come all this way just for you all to ruin my good name."

"You did that all by yourself, Hud," Lou teased.

"Alright, that's enough now," Smokey stepped in. "Hud and I have some things that we need to discuss. Why don't you all just stay here and try to behave yourself?"

"Sure, Smoke," Moon replied cheekily.

"Don't call me that," Smokey warned, and turned towards the door. Doc followed, unsure what to feel about his good friend from the present meeting his old friends from the past. He could tell Sheriff was a little bit gruff at the thought that he would have to share Doc with other friends, but he knew the old car would come to accept it soon enough.

Right now, he needed to talk with Smokey. Reunions out of the way, the old pick up truck was the reason he was really here. Smokey knew Doc... Just about as well as anyone else, except maybe Sheriff. But Doc liked to think he knew Smokey pretty well in return. Smokey disliked confrontations (which is probably why he never visited Radiator Springs), but he knew that they were a necessary part of life. That's why he had taken Doc to the bar first. It was in order for him calm down and to put his own thoughts together. Doc stayed quiet, knowing that Smokey knew why he was here... and would speak when he was ready.

Instead of going back towards the track where Doc thought they might be headed, Smokey took him towards his garage. Doc wasn't surprised to see the business still standing, but he was surprised when Smokey opened an old door and nodded inside.

"Guess I should be thanking that kid of yours," he said. "20 years and not a word from you. He rolls into town and you start writing letters. And now that he's missing you show up."

Doc looked through the door and smiled with a 'huh' as he glanced up towards the wall. Every letter, picture, and newspaper article he had sent Smokey was hung up in a sort of collage.

"You've done well, Hud," Smokey said quietly.

"By the kid, I reckon," Doc replied. "But there won't ever be a better crew chief than you were."

It was true. Most cars focused only on the racer's talent. But it took a special kind of talent for a car, _especially_ one who had never raced before, to be a good crew chief. Smokey possessed that talent and Doc could attest to it, as well as being living proof.

"That's kind of you to say," Smokey said, With a small grin he added, "But you ain't so bad yourself."

Doc grinned and looked at the pictures again. His smile fell as he looked at McQueen. Smokey read his mind as if the past 20 years didn't exist at all.

"Why are you here?" He asked.

"I need your help, Smokey," Doc admitted. "McQueen's missing, and it ain't looking like a carnapping."

"What are you saying?" Smokey's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. Doc took a deep breath and responded.

"Marshall, the head of Dinoco's security team, asked if I had any enemies," Doc started. Looking Smokey in the eye he elaborated. "And I don't know if I have.'

It was true. Doc had been in hospital for months, barely conscious for most of that period. After being given a clean bill or health and being rejected by the racing board of that time, he had left everything. His friends, his crew team... and possibly anyone who held a grudge against him. He had no idea why they would strike now, but it was the only lead he had to finding Lightning

"So tell me," he continued. "After I left, or when I was in the hospital, can you think of anyone that would use the kid to get to me?"

Smokey was slightly taken aback at this line of questioning. He had, of course, heard about McQueen and Weather's abduction over the old television he had in his home. His thoughts had immediately flown to Hud, wondering if he should go and visit him. But he had decided against it, figuring if Hud needed him, he would come back to Thomasville. But he hadn't expected him to, so when he had seen Hud by the track that morning it had been a huge shock. He thought Hud might be here for some sort of support or advice, but this? This wasn't at all what Smokey had expected. Still...

"I can't think of too many cars out there with that kind of grudge," Smokey started slowly. "You beat quite a few cars on the track, and they didn't always take it well. But you never cheated and I can't say that anyone would fault you for your talent. Although you attitude could have used a little work."

Doc rolled his eyes teasingly, not even realizing how much the gesture looked like McQueen.

"The only instance I can think of..." Smokey thought hard and frowned. "It's vague, but it's the only thing I got, Hud."

"What is it?" Doc asked, apprehension tight in his engine.

"It was your second month in hospital," Smokey explained. "It was still touch and go, and we weren't sure if you were going to make it. Some old Buick Ford came to the hospital one day. Rattling on about how you should die and that it'll tear the racing world apart. She was almost hysterical, saying it would serve you right. Moon almost assaulted her and Lou broke down afterwards, but don't tell her I told you that."

"Who was she?" Doc asked, heart hammering at the memory of the suspect Sally and Marshall's suspect.

"Something Hemming," Smokey said. "Heard from the police afterwards. She was the mother of that Leroy kid, the one who tried to slam you."

"And I flipped right over him," Doc murmured. "And you said she wanted me dead?"

"Turns out her kid died in a race soon afterwards," Smokey explained. "I reckon she may have blamed you for some of it."

Smokey didn't tell Hud that he wasn't responsible. The car was wise enough to know that by now.

"It makes perfect sense," Doc said quietly. "Have you seen her recently?"

"Haven't in years," Smokey admitted.

"Well, either way," Doc stated. "We need to go tell Dinoco. He'll call Marshall. This is motive enough."

"Marshall?" Smokey asked.

"Dinoco's security head," Doc turned hurriedly back towards the bar. "He's leading point on the operation."

"Best hurry and make that call," Smokey hurried afterwards, but glanced towards the East. Heavy rain clouds had formed further away and all that was needed to blow the storm their way was a good gust of wind. It was 12:30 right now and he predicted the storm would reach them at about 5.

"The signal doesn't work so well in the rain!"

* * *

Lightning was in the middle of a very pleasant dream. He was arriving home with Mack after just winning his 5th Piston cup. All his friend were around him, all talking at once and planning an exciting celebration. They would light up the neon lights again and spend the whole night (or most of it) just driving and talking and laughing together. Mater was chatting away about cow-tipping and a new hook he was thinking of getting when he suddenly said,

"We've got to get out of here!"

"What?" Lightning asked. "Mater..."

"We need to leave, now," Mater said, his voice sounding like Lizzy's. "Wake up, McQueen, wake up!"

"But... I am awake," Lightning mumbled.

Slowly the dream faded away and as Lightning opened his eyes, Mater's face was replaced be Deborah's.

"What do you want?" McQueen asked, grouchily.

"We need to get out of here," the old car looked fervently behind her. Glancing behind the Buick, Lightning realized that the three cars were alone in the room. The television was still on, but it was muted. The Raptors were nowhere in sight. Neither were any forklifts, Rick with his incredibly fast reflexes, or the rude Acer car. Realization dawned quickly and McQueen realized that they were escaping.

"Where are they?" He asked, as Deborah frantically tried to unclasp the boot holding the King's wheel in place.

"Some sort of meeting," Deborah said hurriedly. "Monroe called it this morning. I've been a fool!" With great effort she managed to free the King's tire.

"And how so?" Strip asked, quickly un booting McQueen.

"Monroe is calling someone else," the old car was clearly upset. "Something about picking up the kid later today with a helicopter. Weather won't allow for it right now."

"They were after me!" McQueen stated, panicked. He looked around desperately as if expecting some magic window or door to suddenly appear.

"They were after both of us," Strip corrected. He looked at the old car expectantly. "Is there a way out?"

Deborah nodded anxiously.

"This way," she hurried towards the door. The race cars followed, Lightning first with Strip taking up the rear, constantly glancing behind him. Deborah took a sharp right, and pushed a door open on the left. The two cars were immediately blinded by the sheer amount of natural _light_ that hit them. Being confined in a dark room for over a day, with only some dim light bulbs and a television set to see by, they were relieved to be outside - even if it was raining.

"Where are we?" Weathers asked the old car.

"Georgia," she replied. "There's a road over there..." She nodded to their left. Strip quickly closed the door, remembering what Marshall had told him years ago when he was a popular race car and the chance that he would be car napped was higher.

"Let's go," McQueen said, ready to race straight for it.

"We gotta be careful!" Deborah hushed. "The guards might still be out there... Oh, this is such a mess," the car was beside herself. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Weathers, for taking you away from your family."

"We forgive you, now can we go?" McQueen asked, annoyed.

"I wasn't talking to you," the old car snapped. "You still got an attitude problem, young man!"

"Let's go into the trees," Strip suggested, knowing that they were exposed in the open. To the Ford he replied, "It don't matter too much now. You're helping us to escape and that's all that counts."

Once in the trees he asked, "Now, are there any towns around here? Somewhere with a Sheriff's office?"

Deborah shook her head.

"Just a small town South-West of here. But there ain't no Sheriff there."

"There'll be a phone or something," Lightning cut in. "We need to get word to someone to give them a hint of where we are.

"Right," Strip nodded. "That's where we're headed. Now we better move bef-"

A loud blare sounded from the compound behind them.

"That's the alarm," Deborah said, tone hushed. Lightning looked anxiously at Strip, worried for their safety. He trusted the older car to make the right call. Weathers had already made up his mind.

"Alright, Deborah, listen," he looked at her firmly. "We're gonna lead them away from you. As soon as it's safe, you get out of here. Go straight to that town and tell them to call law enforcement."

Deborah was about to protest but nodded, lips pursed.

"We'll be alright," Strip assured her and turned towards the forest.

"Kid," he looked at McQueen. "Ever raced cross country before?"

In response, McQueen revved his engine. Loudly. Strip did as well, and they knew the Raptors would undoubtedly hear them.

"Lead the way," Strip nodded to the younger car and McQueen disengaged his clutch and sprang forward. Strip followed, determination etched on his face. He had asked McQueen to go in front of him on purpose. The kid was in better shape than he was and although he didn't have a whole lot of experience, Strip trusted the kid enough to pick a safe track through the shrubs.

McQueen wasn't fazed by the mossy dirt underneath him. Although he was used to practicing on the sandy desert, he was always ready for a challenge. Doc had taught him well, and he knew how to race on just about any terrain. He was still wearing his racing tires which helped him maneuver the sharp turns.

Pretty soon him and Strip were racing through the forest, heading blindly into to foliage. Lightning ducked and swerved around the trees, tearing up the ground beneath him. Strip ended up cutting through the straighter paths, not as fun or as challenging as the course McQueen took, but definitely faster, which caused him to catch up to the younger racer. A large root came in his way, and while Strip knew he should probably avoid it, he didn't have time so sped up. He went sailing through the air and landed right next to McQueen with a small grin. McQueen's paint was scratched and he was enjoying every second of it.

For a brief moment, both cars forgot that they were most likely being pursued by angry Ford Raptors and that their lives could be in danger. It was just them, the 'track', and the race. McQueen's fear evaporated and Strip's pain from his rear axle dulled from adrenaline. As was in their nature, the two cars quickly turned the escape into a race. McQueen made the first move, cutting Strip off as the blue racer was about to make a turn. Strip retaliated, taking a gap McQueen didn't see. They were tire to tire for a few glorious moments until the treeline suddenly came to an end. Both cars slammed on their brakes and screeched to a halt.

Their fantasy was shattered as they glanced down the small incline. It wasn't very steep and they would easily be able to make it down, despite the ancient roots sticking and jutting out of the sides. What was really the issue though, was the brown pool at the bottom of the incline. This seemed to be the lowest part of the forest and deep mud had formed there.

"We can still make it," McQueen stated, not seeing a quick way around the pool.

"Right," Strip nodded, catching his breath. "And Kid," he looked straight at McQueen. "If something happens, you need to go on."

"What, no," Lightning protested.

"You have a better chance than making it than I do," the older car insisted. "Now, let's go. And remember, no stopping."

McQueen nodded.

"And no spinning."

There would be no Mater to tow him out if he got stuck here.

The mud was sticky and about an inch deep, but previously undisturbed and with a whole lot of slipping and sliding, both cars managed to make it through. Their tires were clogged and they were absolutely filthy and cold, but the light spray of rain encouraged them to keep going.

"You know," McQueen, always chatty, couldn't help but say as they weaved through the trees. "I think we might actually make it."

Strip didn't reply but the determination on his face showed he thought the same. The two cars kept zapping through the trees for a few more minutes and slowed down a little, both starting to realize that they may be lost. Just as McQueen was about to suggest that they stop, he noticed a flash of gray on his left. A road! He turned sharply and Strip followed. They slowed to a stop on the asphalt and looked around, not quite believing their luck. They were still surrounded by trees and the road was whindy, but it was better than being lost in the woods.

"Which way?" Lightning asked, his sense of direction dodgy at best (Mater was always teasing him about that).

"Right," Strip turned right on the road and Lightning followed. The blue racer had a good sense of direction and sensed the road would wind back towards the compound if they went left.

Lighting followed at the two cars sped around a sharp corner... and promptly screeched to a halt. Three guns were being cocked and pointed straight at them... By the Ford Raptors.

"Told you we'd find them at this turn," one of them said smugly. Lightning, who was at the back shifted in reverse and was about to screech away when he felt an extra weight on his back tire.

"Hey!" He exclaimed as Rick drove by in a blur and promptly put a boot on Strip. The car sat back with a smug expression on his face, clearly satisfied by his speed.

"New record?" One of the Fords asked.

"Yiiiiiiip," Rick replied, still smugly.

"You ever think of joining a pit crew with that speed?" Strip asked mildly. Lightning was looking back dismayed at the boot.

"It wouldn't pay well enough," Rick shrugged.

"You'd be surprised," the old racer replied.

"How did you find us?" McQueen demanded. "We're faster than all of you."

"We assumed you'd go in a straight line," the Raptor in the middle said. "Which would lead you straight here."

McQueen stomped his front tire angrily.

"Now, just stay nice and still until the tow trucks arrive," Rick smirked.

"Or you'll shoot us?" Lightning demanded.

"Nah," Rick said, and a concealed taser came out of his tire. "But this will hurt just as badly."

The two cars glanced at each other, the adrenaline, excitement and hope of escape gone. Soon enough two black tow trucks came around the corner and the two cars found themselves being dragged back unceremoniously.

"This is humiliating," Lightning muttered.

"Like being dragged around in Radiator Springs?" Strip asked, and Lightning looked to see the car looking at him with a wry smile.

"You can be really sarcastic, you know that?" He asked.

"Only a little," Strip admitted.

The two cars fell into a miserable silence for a while, watching their front tires roll on the asphalt, further and further away from freedom. They suddenly turned sharply to the left onto a newer road.

"It's been recently laid," McQueen said aloud.

"Probably recently build as well," Strip agreed, referring to the compound.

"Do you think she got away?" McQueen asked quietly. The question had been buzzing in his mind since they had been hooked up.

"I don't know," Strip replied softly, feeling apprehension same as McQueen. "Guess we'll find out when we get back."


	10. Chapter 10

**Merry Christmas everyone!**

* * *

By the time the two cars were dragged back to the compound they were cold, wet and miserable. The courtyard, which had been bustling when they had arrived was eerily empty. Boxes and barrels were staked into trailers and a final inspection was being done before the doors were closed.

Monroe was waiting with a frown on his face. The little Pacer car from earlier was next to him, quivering with rage.

"How could you let them escape?" The latter exploded at the Raptors. The tow truck hauling McQueen rolled his eyes.

"They didn't let them escape," Monroe corrected, bored of the little car's attitude. "They're right here, aren't they?"

"They almost did!" The small car continued, almost blowing all of his gaskets. "Through the _back door_ no less! Why do you even _have_ a back door."

"It's standard security procedure in case of a fire," Monroe said impatiently. "What, you expect me to double check every _single little detail_ by tire? We're in the middle of nowhere. There's no lasting damage." Nodding back inside the building Monroe ordered the tow trucks,"Take them back in."

"No damage?" The Pacer car practically squeaked. "That old senile cleaner got away!"

The two race cars cast a hopeful glance at each other before the truck towing McQueen went in front of the one towing Strip.

"She'll probably break down before she gets too far," Monroe rolled his eyes. "And I already have someone looking for her. She won't. Get. Far."

The Pacer car's angry retort was lost on Strip as the tow trucks hauled them back into their old 'cell'. The two cars were unceremoniously dropped and Weathers winced as his axle took even more abuse. Lightning glared hatefully at the tow trucks, who drove away without the slightest bit of care.

The Ford Raptors quickly resumed their previous position, but it was clear to the two racers that they were more alert.

"Do you really think she'll break down?" Lightning asked Strip quietly as something interesting enough came onto the news to distract the Raptors for a second.

"That car is one of the most stubborn I've ever seen," Weathers said with conviction. "She won't stop until she's completed her mission."

* * *

"You were right, Finn," Holley commented as the two cars drove past the two sleeping trucks.

After Siddeley had landed in a small field further up the road, the two cars had promptly donned their disguises (their accents would stand out enough without their models catching additional attention) and driven until they had reached an old, beaten track. Holley's GPS couldn't tell where they were, but Finn seemed confident so Holley had followed without asking what the final destination was.

"Well, Holley, this is where Doctor Hudson's old headquarters used to be," Finn explained as they drove past the sleeping trucks. "And I think that's it over there."

Holley drove over to the top of the hill, seeing the faded sigh but opting to study the track instead.

"It's quite worn down," she commented, thinking the track looked a little sad.

"Well, it's probably been more than 20 yeas since it was last used," Finn responded. "The racing board of the Piston Cup decided to switch to asphalt quite a while ago."

"I thought you didn't follow the Piston Cup races," Holley drove next to Finn as they descended the small hill towards the little town.

"I don't really," Finn admitted. "But because of the nature of this case I decided to do a little research."

"And... Mater told you all about it, didn't he?" Holley guessed, remembering their last visit to Radiator Springs.

"Yes," Finn admitted with a small smile. "That as well."

The two cars reached a small bar with a sign saying 'The Cotter Pin Bar and Grill'. Finn entered, and Holley followed, supposing this place was the local hangout and that they would find Doc Hudson close by. The inside of the bar was a little smoky, but nice and warm compared to the chilliness outside.

"Can I get you anything?" Finn asked as they took a table by the wall, far away from the band.

"A pint please," Holley replied. "Of anything really."

Finn went to the counter, giving Holley plenty of time to scout around. She noticed a particularly loud group at the back of the bar and recognized the black and white Sheriff from Radiator Springs. She glanced away, knowing that she might be recognized but as she drove past caught sight of a car with huge horns on his hood. He seemed to be talking animatedly with three old race cars, most likely from Doc's era.

"And then," the female race car chatted. "Doc came in front behind the trees straight behind Moon."

The car who Holley presumed to be 'Moon' protested loudly at this.

"Turns out he had found an old track none of us had ever noticed," the other car said, and that was the last Holley heard before she headed back to the table. She didn't see the Hudson Hornet anywhere. Finn was waiting for her.

"Well?" He asked.

"Tex Dinoco is here," Holley reported. "He's talking with some of Doc's old racing friends along with Sheriff."

"We'll have to make sure he doesn't recognize us," Finn agreed with Holley's unspoken statement.

"Doc is definitely here," Holley commented. "Are we going to stay here and wait for him?"

"Exactly what I was thinking," Finn agreed, and a thanked a forklift who brought them their drinks. "Cheers," he said and rook a sip through the straw.

Holley took a sip and almost spat the strange liquid out.

"What is this?" She exclaimed in a hushed down after swallowing the vile drink.

"Why, Miss Shiftwell," Finn grinned. "It's moonshine."

"What?" Holley whispered. "This... this is moonshine?" She looked at it incredulously.

"Rather common in these parts," Finn was still grinning. "You don't like it?"

Holley took a small sip and swallowed the offensive liquid with an effort.

"It's... a little strong," she admitted. "And not exactly legal."

"Well, not much we can do unfortunately," Finn shrugged.

"Not our jurisdiction?" Holley questioned, taking another small sip.

"That, and we're undercover."

* * *

Honestly, when Tex had volunteered to come with Doc on this spontaneous road trip he didn't except to have so much _fun_. The driving had, of course, been long and tedious, but now that he was at the Cotter Pin, Tex found himself enjoying himself despite the situation. The Sheriff had mellowed a little bit and was trading stories with River about Doc. The cars here had a blunt whit and cutting honesty that Tex had experienced growing up. While the billionaire now moved among some of the most exclusive circles in the country, he hadn't forgotten his roots. He often went back to his hometown and would just appear at a rodeo hosted by one of his cousins. He wasn't treated much different there, but his standing in the community had definitely shifted a little. He supposed that was natural considering he had turned the town around when he bought big money and a high lifestyle into a small place like that.

Still, he went back often just for the conversation. In the business world there were all sorts of connotations, undertones and wheeling and dealing. Tex could play that game just as well as any other car, but it exhausted him sometimes. It was nice just to get his tires back on the ground and be around cars that wouldn't hold back their opinion to spare his feelings. Already, these racers had sharply contradicted him twice, and took any opportunity they could to throw in a witty verbal barb. Tex, of course, had retaliated, and if his words would be used against him later on, well, he wasn't too worried.

The Sheriff had been a little bit overwhelmed by the quick flying conversation, being more used to the lazy laid-back way of Radiator Springs, but as Doc had introduced him as a friend, the other cars accepted him as such and he eased up around them. It only took the racers a few minutes to warm up the the billionaire and by the time Doc had figured out who might be after McQueen the five cars were talking like old friends.

"So you're telling me," Sheriff leaned forward. "That Doc had eyes for Lou?"

"Oh, he sure did," the race car looked pleased at herself. "Almost asked me out once."

"Why didn't he?" Sheriff asked eagerly.

"Oh, now that's a _long_ story," Moon cut in. "We might need another round for that."

"Didn't you say you'd pay for that?" River glanced at Tex.

"I do believe I did," Tex stated. "Let me just go order another round. Don't go telling Sheriff everything while I'm gone."

"Oh, well maybe we'll talk about you instead," Lou teased.

"Well, I'd be mighty honoured by that," Tex shot back cheerfully. "Especially since you won't say a bad word about the car who drove all the way here just to buy you drinks."

"You rode most of the way!" Sheriff called out and Tex drove towards the counter, shaking his head with a smile. He caught sight of Finn and Holley at the table but didn't pay much mind to two new cars.

The billionaire didn't notice as the door of the bar opened very slowly. He also didn't notice an old car peek in and look around nervously.

Deborah was wet and tired. She had traveled slowly through the woods and almost lost her bearings until she had found an old dirt track. She knew that the two race cars had been caught and probably wouldn't be able to escape a second time.

She had stumbled upon Thomasville on purpose, but a sense of loathing had entered once she arrived. There were so many memories associated with this place. Memories she'd much rather forget. But because of her stupidity two cars were now in danger and she needed to make right what she had broken. She glanced around the room, recognizing a few of the locals. She wouldn't tell any of them. They might remember her and as a result despise her, or maybe even pity her. No... She needed to tell someone she didn't know. There were those two cars sitting by a table... Or maybe the barkeeper. As her eyes drifted over to the bar she gave a small jolt. That was Tex Dinoco, the big-shot oil tycoon. She should tell him, the blue car was his racer, wasn't he?

 _No_ Deborah immediately drew back. That car was a billionaire. He wouldn't pay attention to a small car like her... But maybe... She rolled forward a little curious, although she was definitely cautious. The car was laughing and chatting with the forklift at the bar, a very pleasant mannerism around him. He didn't seem to have the least bit of airs, at least, none that she could see.

Yes, Tex Dinoco was the car she needed to talk to.

"Alright, Deborah, time to fix the mess you made."

The old car set her mouth in a grim, straight line and rolled forward to where Tex was telling the forklift to bring some more drinks over to the table.

"Mr. Dinoco?" She asked, and the old car looked towards her, blue eyes alert.

"Howdy Ma'm," he greeted. "What can I do for you?"

Deborah hesitated and scraped together all of her courage.

"I know where them race cars are."

Tex's eyes widened and the previous pleasant persona from earlier was gone to be replaced by apprehension and a little bit of fear mixed with hope.

"Are you sure?" He asked, rolling forward a little.

"Yes," the old car nodded.

"Did you see them?" Tex asked.

"I helped carnap them," the old car said bluntly.

Tex was stunned silent by her confession, but recovered quickly.

"Well, the reward money will go to anyone..."

"I don't want no money!" Deborah snapped proudly. "Look, I did wrong by those racers, and now they're in danger. I came here to tell someone in order to rescue them."

She didn't notice the door open.

"Really?" A voice sounded from behind her, making the old car jump and turn around quickly. An angry looking Hudson Hornet was glaring at her with a pick up truck still standing by the door, recognition all over his features. The Hudson Hornet spoke again.

"Then you better tell us _everything_."


	11. Chapter 11

**Seeing as it was Christmas the day before yesterday here's an extra chapter. Enjoy!**

* * *

Finn and Holley had both seen the old car come in and start a conversation with the Texan.

"That could be our suspect," Holley whispered and Finn nodded.

"Activate eavesdrop sequence," he said quietly and a little antenna came out of his tire and pointed straight at the two cars.

 _'I helped carnap them,'_ he heard in his earpiece.

"It's definitely her," he whispered to Holley.

Just as Doc came into the Cotter Pin, their joint phone line rang. Finn looked at Holley sharply as she checked the caller ID.

"It's Siddeley," she whispered, before accepting the call and hurrying to the ladies room, much to Finn's immense relief. He was grateful for such a good partner.

* * *

"Where's the kid?" Doc demanded. Deborah was definitely intimidated by the car's scowl but bravely answered.

"In a compound just north-east of here. Monroe had it built."

"Who's Monroe?" Doc demanded again.

"He's the one who told me to sneak them badges," Deborah answered loudly.

"Doc," Tex cut in. "Let's take this outside."

"Hud," Smokey stopped the car before he could drive out. "Go grab that Sheriff friend of yours."

Doc glared at the pick up truck, but knowing his temper would cause a scene, headed over to the table.

"We have a lead," he told Sheriff, ignoring the curious looks from his friends.

"We do?" Sheriff asked and Doc nodded. "Excuse me," Sheriff told the other cars before following Doc outside.

* * *

"Hello, Siddeley?"

Holley quickly isolated Finn's line so that he could listen to their suspect without being distracted by the conversation.

"Holley," the plane greeted. "Where's Finn?"

"He's listening into a conversation," Holley explained. "Our number one suspect in the carnapping case just showed up. She's talking to Tex Dinoco!"

"You don't say," Siddeley said. "Well, when he's finished, I might have something for you. I don't know if it's relevant, but there's a compound building just north of where I am now. I flew over between the clouds so that they couldn't see me, but it looks relatively new and quite suspicious. It's not registered in the system, but I can detect quite a lot of activity down there."

"Compound building just north of you," Holley repeated. "Right, thank you, Siddeley. I'll tell Finn and we'll keep you posted."

"Quite alright. Good luck, agent!"

* * *

Smokey's head was reeling slightly as they exited the bar. He was not expecting this. One moment Doc had insisted that they had to call Marshall, whoever he was, and now, suddenly, their number one suspect had turned up out of thin air and was willing to just give them information.

"Alright, Ma'm," Tex said smoothly just as Doc and Sheriff came out. "Tell us what you did at the track and where our cars are. We won't hold nothin' against ya."

"Speak for yourself," Doc mumbled just loud enough for Sheriff to hear.

Deborah, comforted by Tex's words, told them everything.

"Monroe, he approached me in Philadelphia about a month ago. He said he knew how dangerous the track was, and that he could end this season if he carnapped two racers. He said nothin' would happen to them and he'd make sure they were safe. He said all I needed to do was to apply fer the job with a name that isn't mine and steal three security badges. Well, I did that and got onto the flight he told me to. Once I reached the compound though, I overheard him talking with one of his henchmen... They said somethin' about a helicopter comin' to 'pick up the red one',"

Doc's jaw tightened at this.

"And about how they're gonna use the blue one to get back at you." She nodded at the Texan. "So I helped them get out of the building and we were gunna' escape, but the alarm went off and we split up... I guess they got caught again."

The old car looked down ashamed.

"I know that was stupid," she admitted. She really did feel sorry for what she'd done, but she wasn't about to apologize for it.

A small silence followed as the four cars absorbed all of the information they had been given. Sheriff immediately thought of a rescue mission, but he would need additional officers for that. Smokey thought back to some unusual amount of traffic they'd had over the past few months but this 'Monroe' had arranged it so that the traffic was just inconspicuous enough to not cause questions to be asked. Doc was silently panicking about Lightning. That crazy Grand Prix last year had made him realize just how popular Lightning was and as a result, how much danger he could be in. Tex just hoped to goodness that Strip wouldn't try anything noble and foolish.

Smokey spoke first.

"You were right to come to us," he said gently but sternly. "You can stay at my house. You'll be safe there."

"Do you think the racers are still there?" Doc asked. Deborah nodded.

"Helicopter wasn't supposed to come until later today," she said. "I don't think they were gonna move Weathers."

"We can still get there in time," Sheriff stated. "How far away is this compound?"

"'Bout two hours," Deborah said.

A sudden energy suddenly took hold of the four cars. Smokey got one of the forklifts to take Deborah to his house just as two trucks rolled down the road.

"Hey," Mack yawned sleepily. "What's going on?"

"We have a lead," Doc said.

"We do!" Mack looked thrilled. "That makes this whole drive worth the while. What is it?"

By now light drops of rain had started falling (as Smokey predicted) and Tex realized he had to call Marshall. He got into Cal's trailer and quickly dialed through.

* * *

Another day, another teeny tiny lead. Man, Marshall _hated_ this part of his job. They had released the picture of their suspect and just about every Ford Buick in the country had been reported as the possible suspect. Every time a fake report had come through security and reached him, Marshall had to spend at least 20 minutes sorting out the mess before going back to his actual work. After checking the train station footage, he had finally been able to get access to the airport security. He luckily had Dinoco's security team to help him and by the end of the day they found that their suspect had boarded a flight to Georgia.

"Finally," Marshall breathed, exhausted by a whole day of tearing through a haystack. At least they had finally found a needle. The security head of Dinoco hated doing 'damage control'. He would much rather plan a security detail out properly. to make sure these kinds of events didn't happen. It was far more rewarding work, while this was immensely frustrating. He was starting to come up with ideas so that this would NEVER happen again. At the forefront of his list was the idea that Weathers should wear a tracking device. He seriously doubted that the racer or Tex would agree to that idea but he decided to mention it anyway.

Speaking of Georgia... he needed to check up on Tex. Gray had called the guard on night shift at the truck stop and Tex had called when he had woken up but that had been hours ago. Time to check in again. Trust Tex to go on some crazy adventure without a proper security detail. At least he had a Sheriff with him...

The phone rang before Marshall could make the call and he was a pleasantly surprised to see that it was the number from Gray's trailer.

"Boss," he said as he answered the phone.

"Marshall!" Tex sounded happy. "I have excellent news for you."

"And what's that?" Marshall was a little worried Tex had just come up with a scheme that Marhsall needed to secure.

"We found your suspect." Tex sounded proud.

"You did?" Marshall almost exclaimed. _Almost_. He was a trained professional and his voice came out as such.

"Sure did!" Tex's voice then changed from optimistic to serious and commanding. "Now, I need you to get over here immediately. We're in a town called Thomasville. Get Rotor to fly you over."

"Of course," Marshall was right on track. He heard a car coming up behind Tex and recognized the sound as the Sheriff of Radiator Spring's engine. The two exchanged a few words that Marshall couldn't hear before Tex came back on the line. "Bring Sarge, Luigi and Guido from the 95 pit crew. Sheriff says that they could be useful."

"Yes, Sir," Marshall replied.

"Attaboy, Marshall," Tex grinned and hung up.

Marshall quickly informed his security team what was happening and left his second in command in charge with strict instructions to have Rotor on the Dinoco roof in half an hour. He hurried out quickly to get Sarge, Luigi and Guido at their hotel. Time for a rescue mission.

* * *

"What's goin' on?" Lou asked as she and the two other racers came out of the bar with Smokey.

"We found the kid," Doc replied just as Tex and Sheriff rejoined the group.

"So what's the plan, Boss?" Gray questioned. The semi had no idea what was going on but he was ready for whatever needed to be done.

"Alright," Doc looked around at the small group. They needed to get onto the same page so that chaos didn't break loose. "Listen closely beause I'm only going to say this once."

All the cars and both trucks fell silent.

"We know where the Kid and Weathers are. They're in a compound a little bit East from here. They were taken by a car called Monroe," he glanced at Tex and Sheriff with an expectant expression.

"Never heard of him," Sheriff stated.

"Can't say I have either," Tex said.

"We don't know what Monroe wants," Doc continued. "But we do know that they're planning on moving Lightning by helicopter later on. My plan is that we go stake out this compound until back up arrives."

"I've radioed in Marshall," Tex explained. "He's my head of security and he'll be flying in."

"Sarge, Luigi and Guido are coming as well," Sheriff added. The two trucks nodded, both understanding what was going on.

"So, we going to stake out this compound?" Moon asked, ready for some action.

"No," Doc shook his head. "I need you to stay here. Chances are when Marshall arrives with the others they'll need someone to explain everything to them."

"What about us?" Mack asked. "I need to get the kid back."

"Track's too small for you," Smokey explained. "I'm thinking I should take the Sheriff and you all should stay here."

"No," Doc and Tex said simultaneously at once and glanced at each other surprised.

"I've come this far," Tex added. "And I might recognize someone you might not."

"And I'm sure as heck not staying here," Doc cut in.

"Stubborn," Sheriff muttered and Smokey silently agreed.

"So we're just supposed to stay here?" Lou asked.

"That's for the best," Sheriff turned towards her. "We don't know what we're up against, and it is essential to maintain the element of surprise."

"And that's why we're not coming along," Gray checked.

"We'll let Marshall make that call when he comes," Tex stated. "Once he arrives, do whatever he sees best. That's what he's payed for."

"Let's get going," Doc said anxiously, impatient with all this waiting. "Monroe might have moved them already for all we know."

"Stay safe, Hud," Lou came beside him.

"Planning on it," Doc smiled just a little bit at her.

"There's an old track this way," Smokey said, nodding down the road.

"So, um," Mack asked the Sheriff quietly. "We're supposed to stay here with these cars?"

"Just hang tight," Sheriff whispered back. Then, turning to the old racers, he nodded to the two trucks. "This here is Mack and Gray, race car drivers. This here is Lou, River, and Moon, old friends of Doc's."

"Race car drivers, huh?" River drove forward. "Back in my day we had to drive ourselves to any races."

"Wow, really? That must have been exhausting," Mack exclaimed.

Leaving the two tow trucks in the capable company of the racers, the Sheriff hurried after Tex. He really didn't like just running off into the woods without any sort of back-up plan or any idea of when they'd be back. But there was no talking Doc out of going so the least he could do was follow. At least now he had Doc's old's crew chief. Maybe the stubborn Hudson Hornet would listen to him. Just maybe.

* * *

"Finn," Holley asked quietly. She had returned to the bar to find him by the door.

Finn said glanced at her with a warning look and Holley saw that he was still listening intently even though the cars in question were outside the bar. Holley stayed quiet while Finn concentrated and watched as the antenna slipped back, signalling the end of the conversation.

"They know where the racers are," he said. "And Mater's friend is due to be picked up by helicopter later today. I think it's safe to say our car will be behind this."

"Where are they?" Holley asked, excitement welling inside of her at the thought of preparing for a possible rescue extraction.

"In a compound just east of here apparently."

"You're joking," Holley exclaimed quietly. "Siddeley just called and he actually mentioned a compound he spied and thought you should know about."

"This can't be a coincidence," Finn said grimly. "We'll have to make it there soon. Chances are the captors won't keep their prisoners there any longer if they suspect word is out. We'll leave as as soon as we know what Dinoco and the Doctor are planning."

"Shouldn't we approach them now?" Holley asked. "It's seems like an ideal time."

"I understand where you're coming from, Holley," Finn explained. "But I think we should maintain our cover. Right now we have the element of surprise on our side and I'd hate to loose that, even if we gained a few allies."

"Understood," Holley nodded. It was a tricky call, and she trusted Finn to make it. "Should I tell Siddeley to prepare an air drop for us? I doubt he'll be able to land without causing a scene."

That, Miss Shiftwell," Finn grinned. "Is an excellent idea."


	12. Chapter 12

**Here's chapter 12. I noticed I made a few spelling mistakes in previous chapters, especially in regard to Holley's name. I went back and fixed them so that her name should be 'Holley' throughout the whole story.**

* * *

Trekking through mud and rough terrain in a wet drizzle was definitely not what Tex was built for, but Doc had to give him credit for not complaining. Smokey had of course taken point, being the most sturdy of the four cars and also the one who knew the area the best. Sheriff had initially taken up the rear, but had eventually joined Smokey in the front in order to discuss what exactly their plan was. He could see by the look on Doc's face that the retired racer really wasn't in the mood to talk, but after half an hour of trekking in silence, Doc's worry was starting to gnaw at him. He might need someone to talk to after all.

Sally would be so proud of him for not keeping it all 'boxed in' or whatever the heck she usually went on about.

As the small path they were trekking on eventually widened up enough, Doc slid back next to Texan who, although he was wet and his tires were covered with covered, still had a determined look on his face.

"You really care a lot about your racer, don't you?" Doc ground out. Sally wouldn't be proud of him for that, but he wasn't about to apologize for getting straight to the point.

"Of course I do," Tex looked at the Hudson Hornet as if he had grown an extra tire. "What a funny question."

"Come on, Dinoco," The Texan's attitude was beginning to get at Doc. What angle was this billionaire playing at? What profit was he going to loose by having Weathers gone? "Most sponsors don't care whose racing for them, so long as they're winning. And most sponsors certainly don't trek through mud to get their racers back."

"I'm not most sponsors," Tex quipped back. Normally, Doc would retaliate with a quip of his own, but he just wasn't in the mood.

"What is Weathers to you?" He forced out. That was what he really wanted to know. Why did this billionaire care so much? Why wasn't he like all of the other heartless sponsors Doc had seen during his days on the track, and still saw sometimes.

Tex shot Doc a sidelong glance as he picked his way over a bumpy root. He wasn't going to get far with this racer by avoiding the very obvious question. Best to spit out the answer.

"Being a billionaire doesn't leave much room for family," he said in a painfully honest tone. "The Weathers family adopted me into theirs and I sure ain't gonna let that go for anything."

"They adopted you?" Doc was pleased at finally getting an honest answer, but a little surprised by Tex's response.

"Sure did," Tex replied, focusing on the road in front of him, especially where Sheriff placed his tires. "I might be the sponsor, but that's no reason for them to really be concerned about me. They're some of the few cars out there who know me for more than just my fortune."

Doc listened in silence.

"They're good folks who really care... And they really care about me, and not just cause I'm the head of Dinoco enterprises. And I care for them as well. And no money can ever repay what I owe them."

There, Tex had said it. Doc wanted the honest answer, he could have it. Tex knew the car would be discrete, and he appreciated that. Doc nodded by way of thanks for the honest answer.

"Guess family just sorta takes you in," he commented, remembering his friends at Radiator Springs.

"That's about right," Tex replied. "And I know what you're thinking and you're correct... I can afford to send an army out here."

Doc wasn't really surprised that Tex had almost read his thoughts.

"But even if I thought it would be of any use, I'd be right out here with them," Tex finished.

"Cause families are stupid that way," Doc elaborated.

"Exactly," Tex said with a small grin. "That's exactly why we're out here."

And by we Doc knew Tex meant all four of them. They were out here risking their tires for family and nothing would stop them.

Man.

And he had called the kid a hot-head.

* * *

It was around 6 pm by the time the four cars had reached the compound. They found it at a corner and saw an ugly gray wall about 10 feet tall looming above them. Smokey was surprised at the size of the structure, and figured it must have taken at least a year to build.

"This place is too big to keep two prisoners in," Sheriff said quietly. Smokey nodded and glanced back at the other two cars.

"We may have stumbled onto something bigger," he said grimly. Why couldn't his town just be left alone in peace?

"You think?" Doc ground out. Smokey shot him a small glare for his sarcasm and peaked out around the corner of the compound. He could just see the main road between the trees. Two Ford Raptors were stationed behind the trees, undoubtedly to check on anyone that might be passing. It was a good thing they hadn't traveled that way, even if it had taken a little bit longer with Tex. Who knew how many other guards they had stationed.

Daring to peek out just a little bit further, Smokey saw the newly laid asphalt road leading towards the ugly compound. A thick gate separated them from inside. Smokey's eyes narrowed as he saw signs of heavy traffic on the road and he pulled back.

"There are two guards by the turnoff connecting the compound to the main one," he stated. "And there's definitely been some rigs travelling down here. Roads barely been laid but it's gonna tear apart soon."

"Right," Sheriff stated. "I think our best bet is to wait here where we can hear any activity. The gate is out of the question."

"We could always just knock and ask for directions," Tex suggested to lighten the mode.

"Or we can look for the back door that old car mentioned." Doc was not in the mode for silliness.

"No, we should all stay together," Sheriff protested. "Let's move under the cover of the trees and just wait to see what happens."

"And if a helicopter comes?" Doc half-snapped. "Watching won't do us any good if they move the Hot Rod."

"It won't do your rookie any good if you get yourself caught as well," Smokey cut in gently but sternly. He knew exactly how Hud felt. He had felt much the same when Hud was recovering after his crash. It was the uncertainty which was the worst of it all. Except when Hud was recovering he was in plain sight. Lightning's location was unknown, and so was his condition. Looking at Hud's eyes now, Smokey could see a hint of desperation. McQueen could be right at the other side of the walls, and the Hudson Hornet just needed to see him. To know without a doubt that the kid was alright.

"Why don't we do a bit of scouting?" Tex suggested. "Could be there's a back entrance that we should keep an eye on anyway."

Sheriff was about to agree when an alarm sounded inside the compound. The four cars raced back to the cover of the trees and waited, barely daring to breath. Several engines, some small and some powerful were heard in what Smokey assumed was the courtyard of the compound. Muffled voices were heard and it sounded like someone was screeching over a loud speaker.

"Sounds like a meeting," Sheriff said quietly.

"Now's our chance" Doc glanced to the back of the compound.

"Hud, no," Smokey tried to protest but Doc was already turning sharply left. Worry twisted in the old crew chief's engine.

"I'll go with him, make sure nothing happens."

And Tex was off behind Doc as well.

"Hot-head," Smokey ground out.

"Best for us to stay together," Sheriff said. "Let's see if we can hear what they're saying."

He was about to creep forward when static over his radio caught his attention.

"Sheriff..." a voice crackled to life. "Come in, Sheriff."

"It's Sarge," he whispered to Smokey. "Go and see what you can hear. I'll keep an eye on you from here."

Smokey nodded and drove quietly towards the wall, pressing his side against it to try and hear what was being said. He remembered Sheriff saying that Sarge was an old war buddy from town, and hoped that back up had arrived.

"Sarge, this is Sheriff," the car activated his radio. "Where are you now?"

"Thomasville," Sarge replied. "Marshall wants to know... many cars there are."

The signal wasn't the strongest.

"There are two guarding the turnoff from the main road," Sheriff replied. "They're not carrying weapons that I can see, but there is the possibility of concealed carry."

"Roger ... at," Sheriff could practically hear Sarge nodding. "Marshall says we ... -uld make our way along ... main road. Some of ... other cars here sa-... they'll trek through ... woods the same ... -ay you came."

"Whatever he thinks is best," Sheriff said. "But this place is pretty fortified. I don't want to have a hostage situation. Best to move our players into place."

"Copy ... at," Sarge agreed. "We'll head towards ... -ur position."

"We'll keep you posted," Sheriff agreed. "Keep an eye out for a helicopter. That's what our suspect said they'd be moving McQueen in."

Sarge agreed and the radio went quiet. Making sure that the coast was clear Sheriff crept next to Smokey. The pick-up truck was listening intently through the wall, only catching every other word or so.

"There's two of them," he commented. "A car that thinks he's in charge and that Monroe fella."

Sheriff nodded and kept a look out as Smokey listened. Part of him wanted to check on Doc and Tex but splitting up from Smokey now would be foolish so he'd just have to hope his stubborn friend didn't do anything stupid.

* * *

Doc found the door soon enough. It was a random feature at the back of the compound and he vaguely wondered if it was some kind of trap. Looking into the woods he could definitely see some damage had done to the underbrush but he couldn't tell what kind of car it was. Tex was right behind him and Doc honestly didn't mind being alone or not, but he supposed it was better if the group of four was split up into teams of two, so when he opened the door he made sure the billionaire was following him. Tex nudged the door closed before following Doc down the hallways. He didn't know tires as well as the veteran racer but he could see a whole lot of wear and tear on the floor.

"I think we may have stumbled onto something bigger than a carnapping," he murmured quietly.

Doc didn't reply, too focused on looking for any signs of Lightning. He stopped suddenly as he heard voices, and Tex followed suite. Doc listened intently and was confused to hear... Darrell Cartrip? The familiar tv show host laughed and it took Doc a moment to realize that it was an interview. The Hudson Hornet crept forward and glanced into a dimly lit room. It took Doc's eyes a while to adjust to the light of the television but when they did he could make out a counter and what appeared to be a bar of some kind. A half finished drink was still on the counter. Doc entered the room with Tex following and examined the floor. Most of what he could see was unintelligible scuff marks but one pair skid marks caught his attention.

"Lightyears," he said quietly to himself. Racing tires. "Does Weathers still wear his racing tires?" He asked Tex, who was examining the oil can.

"No, can't say he does," Tex replied, but his voice was distracted.

"Lightning was here," Doc said quietly, looking around for any other clues. A chip or paint or any sign of _red_.

"We got ourselves another problem," Tex stated, gaining Doc's attention. At the Hornet's quizzical glance Tex nodded towards the oil can. "This here ain't moonshine. It's imported all the way from Italy. Extremely hard to buy and even more expensive."

"What does that mean?" Doc asked.

"That someone with a fortune to rival mine is funding this," Tex replied grimly. "And I haven't got the slightest idea who that could be."

"Could that be who took Strip?" Doc asked. Tex shook his head.

"I don't have those sorts of enemies with that much cash," he stated and Doc knew he was being honest. He was about to reply when he heard the sounds of a chopper above him. _Lightning_ was the first thought that came into his mind. The chopper flew right over them and then the sound faded away.

"They might be waiting for their chance to land," Tex said as soon as it was safe to talk. "Rain makes it harder to get a clear landing."

"Smokey and Sheriff will keep an eye of it," Doc thought out loud. "We'd best keeping looking in here."

"That might not be the best idea," Tex said. At Doc's gaze he nodded to the television. "Camera. There's a chance someone's watching."

Doc nodded and the two slipped out. Tex hoped to goodness that no one had been watching the security feed, if the camera was even rolling. But better safe than sorry he supposed.

* * *

Sheriff and Smokey had ducked for cover when they heard the chopper.

"That must be the one they're going to pick Lightning up in," the Sheriff said worriedly.

"We have some time," Smokey said grimly. "I heard them say they still have some clearin' up to do. Apparently the haulers will be here by midnight to 'move the merchandise'."

"Sarge better get here soon," Sheriff wouldn't deny that he wouldn't worried. "With whatever back up he bought."

They watched as the helicopter took another lap around the compound. Time was running out.


	13. Chapter 13

**When I first wrote this story I didn't plan it with chapters but just wrote it out over email and sent it to myself. Afterwards I went through it and tried to divide it into even chapters of roughly five pages each. My point is that any cliffhangers are completely by coincidence. You have been warned.**

* * *

After checking out the rest of the compound and seeing just a flash of the courtyard (and the mysterious crates and barrels being locked into containers), Doc and Tex crept back towards the exit they had discovered at the back. They were about to slip out when Tex heard a voice.

"Well, Darrell, I think Dinoco will do the business good..."

"What in the blazes?" the oil baron muttered to himself, coming to a halt. That was _his voice_. It was an interview he had had over 15 years ago. The confused car turned around and headed into the direction of the sound. It was in a room he and Doc had glanced into that only had a tv that was turned off. Nothing interesting.

"Dinoco," Doc whispered from behind him. He was about to follow the Texan but a flash of light blue distracted him. There was a chip of Dinoco blue paint on the wall. Same shade as Strip's. Keeping an eye on Tex, Doc ducked into the other doorway.

Tex felt for a strange few moments that he had just walked into one of those sci-fi movies Cal watched sometimes. The closer he came to the room the more he recognized his own voice and he slowly began to recall the situation surrounding the interview. The memories from the past and the recent events of the past few days drifted together, forming a clear picture. In reality this happened in only a few seconds, but those seconds felt a whole lot longer to Tex, like he was seeing everything in slow motion.

"It was a shame we couldn't come to an arrangement," the Tex from the past said. "But Douglas just wasn't ready to compromise."

15 years later and he was faced with the worst fear he didn't even know he had. Douglas Monfield pointing a gun at his best racer and good friend.

He immediately berated himself. He should have told Marshall to check for any name changes. But it was too late for that now.

"Douglas," he greeted, usually cheerful tone coming out with a bit of apprehension. "I expected to meet a car named Monroe, and now you show up."

"I'm one and the same," the Monroe replied. "Although I didn't expect to see you here... Should have known better that to build a base near the Hudson Hornet's hometown... You always had a knack for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

 _Doc,_ Tex immediately thought. He had lost sight of him when he had been distracted. Hopefully he'd gone and gotten Sheriff. Deciding to ignore his former rival, he glanced at Strip. His friend looked as relaxed as could be in this situation. He wasn't wearing a tire block, but the gun coming out of Monro... Douglas' tire was pointed straight at his engine block. He was holding himself in a way Tex has come to realize he did whenever the stupid axle still bothered him.

"Hey Tex," the race car greeted, and his voice came out even, sending a small rush of relief over Tex. He instantly relaxed.

"Hey Strip," he responded. "Good to see ya. Cal's been missing his trainer. Guess I'll have to pay you half for the days you've missed."

"Didn't know you were still paying me," Strip quipped.

"Alright, cut it out," Monroe growled. "You know why he's here, Dinoco?"

"I think I got the gist of it," Tex said, small grin dropping. "You're still angry that I bought up the business you were set to own and cut you out. This is some kind of revenge plan, using my racer to get to me."

"Nice to see you haven't changed," Douglas smirked. "So very smart... You were always too clever for your own good."

"And smarter than you are," Tex rolled forward a little. "Don't you see how stupid this is? You could have found something else to do but instead you let it get personal. You should _never_ let it get personal, boy."

"Seemingly wise words, but you're not fooling anyone," Monroe stated. "Coming in here alone was really stupid."

"You saw me on the camera," Tex guessed, prodding Douglas to see if he had seen the Hudson Hornet as well.

"Imagine my surprise," Monroe smirked. "Driving by and seeing you right here in my humble abode. I thought I would need to go all the way to Dallas."

"Well, I've come all this way for you," Tex started. "Now let Strip go and we can sort this out like gentlecars."

"I don't think so," the car glared coldly at Tex. "It's only fair that since you took something of mine, I should take something of yours."

Strip's eyes widened just slightly. Monroe really was going to kill him!

"Now, don't be ridiculous," Tex drove forward but slammed on his brakes as Monroe pushed the gun into Strip's side. "Killing another car won't do an ounce of good."

"Perhaps not," Monroe shrugged, and Tex realized that he wouldn't be able to talk the car out of this. His judgement wasn't clouded with emotion, he had thought this through and already made up his mind. "But the look on your face will be worth it... And I promised this old lady I'd get back at the racing board... What better way than to kill a racing legend."

"Douglas. no-" Tex watched in horror as the trigger moved and Weather's eyes closed instinctively.

"You think he's a legend?" A new voice cut through the room and the trigger slid back into place. Tex almost sagged in relief but the feeling disappeared when he saw Doc come into a side door.

"Stay where you are," Monroe warned, pointing the gun towards him then back to Weathers. Doc complied and looked straight at the car, the look he always gave McQueen when the rookie did something stupid.

"You must not know a whole lot about racing," his gaze didn't waver from Monroe.

"Yeah, I don't," Monroe didn't look to impressed. "But I do know you're supposed to be retired and you're probably the one who decided it was a good idea to come here."

"Guilty as charged," Doc drawled. "Now, I'm gonna give you a little history lesson and you better listen carefully. I still hold the record for most wins in a single season, and if anyone's gonna beat that, I'll be training them. I won the Piston Cup three years in a row. This was on a dirt track, mind you, before they switched to asphalt. There's only one racing legend in this room, and that's me."

Tex realized that Doc was stalling. So did Strip.

"Now hold on one moment, _Doc_ ," Strip took the bait. "If I rightly recall, I have _seven_ cups at home. You only have three. Does that really make you the legend or just the lucky one?"

Doc replied quickly, not wanting Monroe to catch onto what he was doing.

"It makes me the one who quit while he was ahead."

"I don't suppose your crash in '54 had anything to do with that?" Strip asked, internally wincing at such a low blow. He shot Doc a quick apologetic look but the older car gave a small nod before 'jumping' to his defense.

"At least I didn't have to get _pushed_ across the finish line," he snarled convincingly, delivering a low blow of his own.

"Qui-" Douglas tried to cut in but Strip beat him to it.

"Look, _Fabulous_ ," he bit out, taking hold of every angry moment in his career where he had to refrain from throwing an insult towards Chick Hicks. "You might have been a good racer on the dirt, but the sport has moved on. I was a darn good racer in my time and managed to outdo you. Best to move on and accept that." The blue car turned towards Doc, making sure Monroe's shot wasn't as clear as the car would like. Unfortunately this meant he wasn't shielding Tex anymore, but it was a risk he would have to take.

"That's not racing," Doc scoffed.

Tex stayed quiet, waiting for his moment.

"Then you should show me what is, _grandfather,_ " Strip bit out. Doc almost laughed. He might have been old enough to be Strip's father but that was taking it too far.

"Even better, why don't we let the kids settle it," he said sweetly. "Or is Cal going to get _creamed_ next race by Lightning."

Strip was about to retort, but Monroe had caught up to their scheme by that time.

"Enough, he ground out, cutting next to Strip.

"Stay out of this," Doc growled.

"I don't think so," Monroe had his weapon pointed at Doc now, and the old Hudson Hornet backed up a smidgen, suddenly realizing what he had done. "Seeing as you're both so wonderful, why don't I shoot you as a pair?"

Doc's world froze as he heard a shot go off.

* * *

It had taken Finn and Holley longer than Finn would have liked to reach the compound. They had reached Siddeley rather quickly but due to a helicopter presence in the air the two cars had to parachute into the forest and trek the rest of the way towards the compound. As a result, they arrived there just as the helicopter was making its fifth circle around the compound while waiting for the forklifts to make room for it to land in the courtyard.

Finn found part of the destruction caused earlier by McQueen and Weathers and followed it back to their target. He nodded to Holley when he saw the coast was clear and the two drove quietly to the elusive back door. Holley pulled her taser as Finn opened the door. She went in first and he followed. The same bleak hallway that had greeted Tex and Doc earlier was waiting for them. Holley was surprised by the emptiness of the compound, but she figured there couldn't be more than 20 or so vehicles working here, and they were all in the courtyard.

The two cars crept forward along the hallway, pressed against the wall. Both of them heard the voices at the same time. Or first, one voice.

"Then you should show me what is, _grandfather."_

Holley frowned. She recognized that voice but couldn't place it. She was about to access voice recognition when a voice she _did_ recognize was heard.

"Even better, why don't we let the kids settle it."

Finn recognized the voice as well.

"Or is Cal going to get _creamed_ next race by Lightning."

That was definitely Doc Hudson.

Finn drove forward, body so close to the wall it was a marvel he didn't scratch his paint.

"Enough."

Holley didn't recognize that voice at all.

"Stay out of this."

"I don't think so."

By now Finn had reached the doorway where Holley knew the voices were coming from. She stayed back, and quietly allowed her gun to come out of her other tire. She watched as Finn glanced around into the doorway, leaning forward ever so slightly and ready for his order.

"Seeing as you're both so wonderful, why don't I shoot you as a pair?"

Holley didn't even have time to process those words before Finn had released his gun from his right tire. Leaping out from his safe spot behind the wall, Finn shut his left eye. Holley's eyes widened as the agent aimed and pulled the trigger in the spam of a few semi-seconds.

A loud shot rang out through the hallways.

* * *

The bullet traveled straight past Doc. The Hudson Hornet would later swear he felt the little projectile whoosh inches from his right eye, heating up the air around it like Lightning would heat up asphalt at the beginning of a race. The bullet didn't hit him, but went straight for it's mark. Right above Monroe's (or Douglas - Doc really didn't care at the moment) right tire, just underneath the hood. It penetrated the car's axle and caused him to drop the gun with a shout of pain.

The gun clattered to the ground as the buzzing entering Doc's ears seemed to rattle his mind. He watched Monroe's weapon as it clattered onto the ground, spinning twice before it came to a halt with the barrel pointed towards the wall. He didn't breath. He felt frozen.

Strip was the first to react. Switching his gears into reverse race car practically plowed into Monroe's side, sending the car slamming into the wall. Hours of frustration along with the fear of almost being shot gave Strip enough power to force Monroe into a spin. Monroe's pain was dulled by adrenaline enough that he ended up scrambling for the gun but Doc had gained his senses enough to shove it out of the way.

The sound of a gun cocking caused the three cars to freeze, Monroe about to make a grab for the gun again.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Tex's voice sent a shiver down Monroe, and he turned to see the Texan lazily pointing a Smith and Wesson classic 6 shooter revolver at him from his right tire. Gone was the friendly business car with an almost jolly-like grin. In it's place was a hard, ruthless car who would do anything to protect what was his. Monroe felt another shiver go down through his engine block.

"Is concealed carry even legal in this state?" He attempted a last-ditch attempt at intimidation or bravery.

"Well son," Tex drawled, his voice low. "I don't rightly know. But don't you worry too much about that now."

Doc's head was still reeling from the fact that _he had almost been shot_ , but he forced his mind back into the game.

"Lightning?" he asked Strip anxiously.

"They left him outside," Weathers was of the same mind. Kicking Monroe's gun further away he headed for the door, only to look hesitatingly back at Tex.

"You alright?" He asked, glancing towards Monroe.

"Yeah," Tex nodded, not taking his eyes off the criminal. "You go on ahead."

Strip nodded and raced after Doc who was already heading towards the courtyard. His mind, a blur of thoughts, finally settled on _who in the heck had fired that bullet_? He needed to know that. He needed answers. But first, he needed to find Lightning.

Monroe was left with the angry business car. He briefly wondered if Tex would shoot him seeing as there were no witnesses. Speaking of witnesses, the car looked around to see who had shot him. It certainly hadn't been Tex.

"Your security?" He asked Tex when he didn't see anyone.

"I highly doubt it," Tex said, gun unwavering. "But I owe my thanks to whoever it was. You were free to play any game you wanted with me, Douglas. But you crossed the line when you threatened someone I care about. Try this again and I'll make an example out of you to anyone who might try anything similar."

Monroe stayed stubbornly quiet knowing that any chance of escape right now for him was useless. All he could hope for was that those stupid race cars would be stopped by his security outside.

* * *

Strip tried call out to Doc that he should _wait_ but the Hudson Hornet heard the sounds of a helicopter in front of him. It had finally landed! Throwing caution and his own safety to the wind, Doc burst into the courtyard - just in time to see a helicopter take off with McQueen.

"Kid!" He called out.

Lightning, who looked pretty petrified, glanced down as he saw his crew chief.

"Doc!" He shouted. "It's the guy from the Grand Prix!"

Lightning disappeared from view and Doc saw an orange Gremlin looking down at him laughing.

"Tell that stupid tow truck we got his best friend!" He shouted gleefully. Doc's engine revved in fury. _Stupid_ World Grand Prix. His attention was torn away from the helicopter as three Ford Raptors surrounded him.

"These the guys that took you?" he asked Strip who had come up beside him, remembering Marshall's theory back at the track.

"Ones and the same," the Raptor with the bent grill leered. "Now are you going to come quietly?"

Doc's eyes narrowed as he saw the helicopter starting to fly out of the compound towards the main road. If he could just get a clear shot towards the gate. But the Raptors were closing in and he didn't see any way past them...

A huge BANG and CLANG caused the Raptors to look behind them. Doc's face grew into a grin when he saw Mack and Gray towering over the forklifts in the background, the gate in total shambles around them. The Raptors turned around slowly, dreading what they would see. The sight was made worse when an old Jeep and a grey Chevrolet Silverado drove in between the trucks.

"You're all under citizen arrest," Marshall said, and before the forklifts could react he shot a small smoke grenade out from his tire. The chaos stunned the other cars but Doc was used to disorder and raced between the Raptors.

"Doc!" Sarge called out to him.

"Take care of these guys," Doc responded, slowing down his speed just a fraction. "I'm going after McQueen."

The Hudson Hornet screeched past the gates, Strip Weathers following, being one of the only cars there able to keep up with him. The Raptors tried to follow but Mack blocked their way.

"Oh, no you don't," he growled. Gray slammed into them from the side the Raptors were powerless against the semi's engine.

Some of the smaller cars (Rick included) slid past the semi, making headway towards the gate.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sheriff asked, blocking the way. Him and Smokey had heard the crash and had raced towards the gate. Rick made to drive past but Sheriff had a tire block on him faster than the car could blink.

"What the-?" the car protested but was interrupted as Smokey slammed into a forklift, causing it to fall onto it's side.

Sarge quickly established a grid with Marshall and blocked the rest of the cars from escaping. Mack and Gray struggled to see through the smoke but were able to stop at least two of the Raptors and the two tow trucks from going anywhere.

A new set of helicopter blades sounded from above them and Rotor appeared.

"Some of them are making a break it," the chopper said over the comm he was wearing with Sarge and Marshall.

"Not for long they won't," Sarge growled.

"Go after Weathers," Marshall ordered. "Tex'll have our hides if anything happens to him."

"Copy that," Rotor took off after the other helicopter, turning his spotlight on.

After the smoke had settled and the chaos had subsided Sheriff drove over to Sarge.

"Excellent timing," he stated. "Not sure if it's legal but I'm certain any judge will let it slide."

"It's not exactly over yet," Marshall came next to them. "McQueen is still unaccounted for."

The two semi-trucks were guarding the prisoners in one corner of the compound. Smokey had opened one of the containers and saw barrels and barrels of oil. Sarge confirmed that it was indeed Allinol oil, probably the last batch that had been manipulated. Mack started panicking.

"This means Lightning's been taken by one of those Grand Prix bad guys!" He exclaimed. "They're going to kill him!"

"Calm yourself, soldier," Sarge barked. "They won't kill him."

Despite his words of reassurance, Sarge glanced at the sky uneasily.

"Sarge is right," Marshall agreed. "McQueen is way too valuable."

Tex came out at this moment prodding a grumpy looking Monroe with his gun as the car moved slowly on purpose.

"Marshall," he called out. "You were right about revenge. I think you remember Douglas... Now goes by the name Monroe."

"Yeah, I think I do," Marshall said grimly. "You wanna tell us who the car in the chopper is?"

Monroe stayed persistently quiet.

"We'll get him to talk later," Smokey said. "Right now we gotta move and see if we can help the kid."

Him and Sheriff started securing the prisoners while Tex called Marshall aside.

"Remember that funny business with the World Grand Prix last year?"

"Yeah," Marshall nodded. "We know it's connected."

"I think someone's already after McQueen," Tex whispered. "You'll notice Douglas is limping and he wasn't shot by me."

"You're saying there's some sort of secret agent around?" Marshall certainly hadn't expected this curve ball.

"I think so and hope so," Tex glanced up. "Cause even with Rotor, we are hopelessly outgunned."

* * *

 **I really like writing action scenes, but writing it with cars was a whole new experience.**


	14. Chapter 14

**I contemplated splitting up the previous chapter but decided to leave it the way it is post the climax all in one go. That way it's not as much of a cliffhanger as it could have been.**

* * *

While Sarge, Marshall and the two trucks were taking control of the compound with the help of Sheriff and Smokey, Doc was tearing his way through the forest in order to follow the helicopter. The Hudson Hornet had never driven so recklessly in his life, but he had also never had so much motivation. The old car zipped through the trees never once changing his speed even though it was dusk and he could barely make out the trees in front of him.

Strip followed him, not because he thought they would be able to do anything but because it was important that Doc didn't go running off on his own. It was better if the cars stuck together in some sort of teams. Given that he was the only one (except for Sheriff maybe) who could keep up with the veteran racer, Strip followed him relentlessly. It wasn't easy. Strip was a good racer but it was clear that Doc was the king of dirt tracks and racing in forests in general. Strip had a hard time keeping up and not getting caught up in the roots and dirt. Back before Tex sponsored him he had raced on sand but dirt and trees were proving much more challenging to maneuver through than flat desert, even if the surface here was firmer.

His chase came to abrupt stop as the path dipped suddenly in front of him. Doc recovered quickly but Strip didn't have time to brace himself and landed hard. His rear axle screeched and he winced as the old injury came back in full force. Any movement now could make the damage permanent and he couldn't risk that. Instead he was left stranded as the sound of Doc's engine faded into the night.

At least he had heard Rotor earlier.

* * *

"Finn!" Holley protested as the car raced back out through the door and around the compound. "What are we doing? Now's the perfect time to join forces."

"Not enough time," the agent stated. "We've got one racer safe but McQueen is being air transported as we speak."

As if on cue, a helicopter rose above them with the red race car visible from the opening in the cab. He was jerked out of the way and Holley immediately aimed her gun as Grem's face came into view.

"That's him," she exclaimed, trying to get a clear shot but the helicopter was out of range.

"I knew it," Finn glared.

The two cars turned towards the compound as they heard a huge bang from inside. They raced to the front just in time to see Smokey and Sheriff race into the compound and Doc race after the helicopter with McQueen inside.

"He's getting away!" Holley exclaimed.

"Call Siddeley!" Finn ordered. "Tell him to ground that helicopter by any means necessary."

"But what about McQueen?" Holley asked.

"You'll have to catch him," Finn stated, and revving his engine, the Aston Martin sped forward behind Weathers who was hot on Doc's trail.

Holley sat still, stunned for a minute before pulling herself together. She called Siddeley and connected him to Finn's line.

"Siddeley, we found Grem," she explained, at the same time letting her wings come out. Using the road towards the compound as a runway, she took off.

"Where is he?" the voice crackled through.

"In a helicopter with Lightning McQueen as a prisoner," Holley explained. "Finn says you're to shoot it down. I'm in pursuit to catch McQueen."

"Bit of a problem there," the plane replied. "I'm above the main road and two semis are making their way towards the compound."

"Take care of them first," Finn ordered as he cut through the trees. "I am on pursuit on the ground and Holley is in pursuit in the air. The compound should be secure but if those semis come in it will tilt the odds against the good guys."

"On it," Siddeley stated.

* * *

The two semi-trucks didn't know what they were hauling and they honestly didn't care. All they knew was that they had been paid a _lot_ of money and they weren't about to turn down an opportunity for any similar high-paying jobs.

They didn't expect to turn a corner and see a plane swooping down towards them. The two shouted in protest as the plane shot several rounds in front of them, blowing their front tires.

"Sorry blocks," Siddeley called out as he swooped over their heads and turned sharply around to head back in the direction he had come from. "You'll just have to stay put until someone comes for you.

* * *

Finn wasn't a race car but he had trained for all sorts of conditions, whether they were the streets of London or ever green forests. Even in the dim light he had more of an advantage than the Hudson Hornet. In the early days he would have had to rely solely on his instincts, but Holley had helped him install sensor beams a few months ago. He found that working with the sensor beams _and_ his instincts was proving to be most successful. He had taken a bit of a different route than Doc, but he could still hear the powerful engine ahead of him. He saw a flash of blue on his left and realized that Strip Weathers was grounded. Knowing that he didn't have time to stop he shot a flare out of his tire. The Dinoco helicopter would find him. Right now he needed to capture Grem. The last of Sir Axelrod's minions would finally be behind bars!

Seeing as Grem was also the car that had helped blow up Rod this would be the perfect opportunity to repay back all the favors her had asked the car recently. Finn shifted into a higher gear and went streaking through the trees, just making out the Hudson Hornet in front of him.

* * *

Lightning watched Doc from the helicopter he was trapped in with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. He could barely make out the old race car's headlights though the trees, but he did know that Doc was going extremely fast. Faster than Lightning had ever seen him go. He felt both terrified for Doc's safety but the thrill of barely making out Doc's engine above the noisy blades made him want to cheer his mentor on.

"Why aren't we loosing him?" Acer, Grem's sidekick and the super whiny car Strip had noticed earlier stomped his tire. There were only three cars in helicopter, Lightning, Acer and Grem, and Lightning was pretty sick of both of them.

"I don't know!" Grem exclaimed. "Time to do something about it."

The orange Gremlin released a gun from his tire and pointed it down towards the race car.

"Time for your last race," the car said gleefully.

Lightning's eyes widened and he briefly considered ramming the car out of the helicopter and letting him fall to his death. But thinking fast he quickly shifted into reverse and raced towards the back of the helicopter as fast as he could.

"Hey!" The helicopter shouted as the sudden shift in weight tilted him back. Grem almost lost his balance and slid back into the cab.

"What are you doing?" He hissed at the race car.

"Making sure you leave Doc alone," Lightning replied before starting to do doughnuts in the back of the chopper. There was no Radiator Springs to rescue him this time - Time to take matters into his own tires.

"Hey!" The chopper shouted. "Keep him still back there!"

"Stay still!" Acer hissed as Grem pointed his gun at McQueen.

"Or what?" McQueen came right up into Grem's face. His anger at how he had been treated the last couple of days fueled his bravery. If Doc was racing through treacherous terrain to reach him, the least he could do was stand up to his captors. "You'll shoot me?"

"I just might," Grem cocked his gun, and McQueen's bravery wavered. But all three cars were jerked off balance as the chopper suddenly came to a halt midair.

Siddeley had followed the road back towards the compound and wasn't surprised to see the helicopter Holley had warned him about heading South. He quickly initiated his own hovering jets and ejected both small missiles in his wings.

"Alright, that's far enough!" He called out. "Stop right there!"

The helicopter hovered, looking with hesitation at the bigger, very intimidating plane.

"Why are we stopping?" Grem demanded, looking out, but only seeing trees and the road beneath them.

"He's got missiles," the chopper responded slowly.

"Whose got missiles?" Grem snapped impatiently. The helicopter turned slowly to the side so that Grem could see Siddeley. The orange car paled a little.

"Finn McMissile," he whispered.

"What? Where?" Acer went to the other door and looked down anxiously. Doc by this time had reached the edge of the trees and screeched to a halt, panting heavily and watching the standoff between the two pilots above him.

"He can't be far!" Grem exclaimed. "That's his pilot."

Lightning came next to the orange car and looked out. Yip, it was Siddeley. He recognized the plane from his visits to Radiator Springs. The plane caught Lightning's eye.

"Lighting, jump!" He called out.

"What?" Both Lightning and Grem shouted.

"Jump, now!" The plane called out sharply. Grem rounded on the race car and pointed his weapon.

"Don't even think about it!" He sneered. Lightning glances towards Siddeley and the gun confused.

Doc, watching below, caught Siddeley's words and saw Grem point the gun at Lightning. He was just about to demand what the blazes Siddeley was doing when he heard a familiar but uncommon whooshing sound behind him. All the pieces added up in his head.

"Lightning, jump!" He called out. "Trust me, kid, you gotta jump!"

Lightning looked down from the helicopter and even though it was dark and the cars were far away from each other their eyes met. Lightning was completely terrified but his blind faith in Doc won out. In all of Doc's years as his mentor, the Hudson Hornet had never led him astray. Before Grem could blink Lightning's engine revved and he shot out of the cabin of the helicopter. Just as his last tire left the surface Siddeley released the missile on his left wing. Gravity pulled Lightning down quickly and the missile sailed three feet over his head, straight towards the helicopter's propellers. It wasn't meant to be a fatal shot but the explosion threw the chopper off balance. Grem slid further into the cabin and slammed into Acer. The bullet intended for Lightning traveled over Siddeley's head and landed further down the road.

Lightning, however, was falling nose-first towards the road. Doc's whole world froze for the second time that day, except seeing Lightning's life on the line was so much worse than seeing his own life on the line. Lightning wasn't screaming but his eyes squeezed closed as he saw the pavement rushing towards them. Doc didn't close his eyes and because of that saw a purple flash of colour fly past him. A few moments later Lightning felt a hook latch onto his rear bumper and he was jerked upwards. He opened his eyes just in time to see the world spinning as Holley turned sharply to avoid the falling helicopter.

"Holley!" He shouted out, completely relieved at the sight of Mater's girlfriend. Holley took advantage of the road and landed underneath Siddeley and McQueen shifted into neutral so that he rolled to a stop.

"Hello McQueen," the spy unhooked him and greeted him with an apologetic smile. "Sorry for the rough save."

"No, no," McQueen said. "It's totally alright. Thank you. Thank you so much!" He didn't realize he was rambling until Doc came next to him. The Hudson Hornet looked over him anxiously and was about to say something when a flash of silver raced past them. Lightning saw Finn McMissile as a blur as the agent headed towards the outlaws. His gun shot out of his tire as Siddeley landed beside him, missile still pointing at Grem and Acer's pilot. The chopper had landed on his side but not too hard enough to cause an explosion.

"Don't worry," Siddeley said almost cheerfully as Holley drove next to Finn and pointed her own weapon. "No permanent damage."

Slowly, Grem crawled out from the chopper from where he had grabbed hold of the edge with his wheel. Acer followed behind him.

"Drop your weapons," Holley ordered.

The two lemon cars looked at each other and Grem dropped his gun on the asphalt.

"It's over, Grem," McMissile said. "We've finally caught you."

Standing a safe distance away from the criminals at the side of the road, Doc finally felt it was safe to look away from the actions and back towards Lighting. He frantically checked for any dents, scratches, or anything that would indicate a broken part.

"Kid, are you alright?"

"Doc, I'm fine," Lightning tried to assure him.

"What did they do to you? Did they hurt you at all?" Doc started prodding him as all of his worry from the past few days flooded out.

"Doc, really I'm fine," Lightning looked him straight in the eye. "Just adrenaline, look," he held up his tire and Doc saw it shaking slightly. It slowly started to dawn on Doc. The kid was alright, he was alive. All of the worry and fear from the past few days drained out of Doc and he sagged down.

"Thank goodness," he sighed. "But I'm still giving you a complete check-up when we get home."

Lightning grinned and watched Holley and Finn boot the two cars that had almost taken him away to some horrible fate.

"You should probably give the King one first," he said. Remembering that he had last seen the blue race car getting pulled away by Monroe, he asked worriedly, "Hey, is he alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, he's -" Doc was about to say fine but then he suddenly looked behind him. Strip had been hot on his tail last time he remembered.

 _Oh no!_

* * *

 **Would this count as a cliffhanger? I'm not entirely sure but you guys might think otherwise.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Luke Pettlework is a canon character, but I've never read anything with him in before so I completely invented his character.**

* * *

Strip hadn't heard Finn McMissile race past him but he had caught sight of the flare sailing up through the trees. He has just assumed it had come from Doc but was surprised that the veteran race car would actually carry one of those. As the red flash reached to just above him, he had tried to get comfortable in the cold and reasoned that someone would come for him sooner or later. He was relived to hear familiar helicopter blades above him and squinted as the spotlight landed on him.

"Strip!" Rotor called out, just making out the familiar blue paint job through the leaves.

"Hey Rotor," the race car grinned.

"You alright?" The helicopter went as low as he dared, trying to catch a glimpse of the car he'd transported for years.

"Yeah, just grounded," Strip replied.

"Hold on," Rotor glanced because towards the compound. "I'll send somebody for you."

"Rotor!" Strip called out as the helicopter turned around. "Make sure someone follows McQueen!"

"I think someone already has," Rotor looked South. "I can't be quite sure but I think the other chopper's grounded. Let me send someone to get you first."

Strip was left alone in the dark again as Rotor flew back to the camp. He had no idea who would come for him, but the realization that he might soon be _safe_ was a huge comfort to him. After about seven minutes (how far had he gotten into forest anyway) he heard the scrambling sound of a small vehicle coming through the bushes. Judging by the fact that he couldn't hear an engine, it was probably a forklift. Strip shifted backwards a little, not entirely sure if one of the forklifts from the compounded hadn't escaped. He really hated being grounded like this.

But he immediately relaxed as he heard the a familiar voice grumbling.

"Of course he had to go and get lost in the forest. He couldn't just stay put, could he? Should have stayed on the track at least another year to burn off all that energy. Now I have to go and find him in the stupid forest. Where is that chopper anyway?"

"Over here, Luke," Strip called out, and turning on his headlights he saw a small forklift with the Dinoco paint job come into the clearing.

"Strip! At last, finally!' The forklift huffed. "Do you know how long I've been looking for you?"

"Nice to see you to, Luke," Strip said to the oldest member of his pit crew. The small guy must have stayed inside of Rotor during the chaos in the compound.

"You as well," the forklift said sarcastically. "Do you know how _worried_ Lynda's been? My wife's been over at her place since yesterday just trying to assure her that you'll be ok. What am I supposed to tell them? That I found you in a _ditch_? A _ditch_?!"

Strip just stayed quiet and grinned as Luke prodded him gently. He knew the forklift had been worried and venting was just his way of dealing with it.

"Where are you hurt?" He almost snapped at the race car.

"Rear axle again," Strip grimaced.

"There you go again, not taking it easy. The Doctor told you to take it easy, didn't he?" Luke ranted, lifting Strip up and straightening him as much as he could.

"I heard him, Luke, more times than you."

"Clearly you didn't!" The forklift raved, supporting the race car. Strip started driving back slowly, while Luke kept going. "The minute you get home I'm telling Tex to get your ears checked. He's the only one you listen to. Never mind the fact that _I'm_ in your pit crew and at _every_ race and at _every_ practice."

"Now, Luke, you know that's not true," Strip protested.

"Did I tell you to talk," Luke looked at him irritably. "Be quiet and keep driving!"

 _Yip_ Strip thought as he and Luke trekked their way through the forest. _It's good to be back_.

* * *

True to his word, Rotor did go to the road to see if McQueen was alright. He was met by the sight of an airplane whom he had never seen before and a downed chopped. The Hudson Hornet spotted him and called out.

"We'll be back in the compound in a minute! Tell Sheriff to stay put!" Rotor nodded and turned back, wondering what in the world he had gotten into. Back at the compound he landed outside and told Sheriff that Doc and McQueen were safe.

"Excellent," Sheriff nodded. "Although I need to have a word with Doc about driving off like that. Completely stupid!"

"Hud's a good racer," Smokey came up beside him. "But not always the most clever."

"Right," Marshall joined the small group consisting of Tex, Sarge, Smokey and himself. "The prisoners are secure. Guess we'll have to jot this down as a citizen's arrest."

"Even though that wasn't exactly by the book," Sheriff admonished Sarge, whose idea it was to ram the gate in the first place.

"I wasn't about to sit idly while Lightning was in danger!" he protested.

The cars were interrupted as a plane flew over them, carrying the helicopter that had been in the compound only minutes before.

"Out of the way, chaps!" The plane called in an accented voice. He placed the scowling chopper down in the courtyard before disconnecting the wires he had been holding him with. Siddeley then landed outside and opened the back door. The five cars crowded around the back of the plane as it opened, the trucks and Rotor looking in from behind, curious. McQueen, Doc and two other cars only the Sheriff and Sarge recognized rolled out.

"Mr. Tex," Lightning exclaimed. "Sarge! Sheriff!"

"Lightning," Sheriff rushed forward to greet him.

"Are you alright solider?" Sarge asked, checking the rookie for injuries just like Doc had done. McQueen chuckled.

"I'm fine, Sarge," he said. "Doc already checked me over. "Thanks for coming all this way." He smiled warmly at the veteran, who only nodded stiffly.

Sheriff in the meanwhile, rolled up to Finn. Doc beat the law-car to what he wanted to say.

"Finn McMissile," the Hudson Hornet turned to the Aston Martin. "You have a whole lot of explaining to do."

"Quite right," Sheriff put in.

"Yes, alright, I think I owe you that much," Finn admitted. "But I'm not sure if right here is exactly the right place for it."

"The Cotter Pin then?" Tex asked, glancing curiously at the interior of the plane. He caught side of a purple car holding a taser along with a sulking Acer and Gremlin car.

"No," Doc shock his head and rolled forward. Even though he was in the presence of a Sheriff, a war veteran, a security official, a billionaire and a secret agent, the Hudson Hornet quickly took charge. "There's a whole lot of explaining to do and best to do it while everyone's together. We'll do it at Smokey's house." He nodded towards the pick up.

"Wait, who's Smokey?" Lightning asked.

Honestly, Doc had never expected his two worlds to collide like this. But looking between his old crew chief and the rookie he realized that the meeting would have been inevitable. Maybe it would have been better at another time, but the look on Lightning's face would be worth this.

"This here is Smokey," Doc nodded towards the faded orange truck. "Smokey, meet Lightning. Lightning, meet Smokey, my old crew chief."

"Wait, _what_?" Lightning exclaimed. "This is your old _crew chief_."

Doc grinned and Tex and Sheriff laughed at Lightning's expression. Sarge looked impressed.

"Just wait until you meet his old crew," Sheriff said enthusiastically.

"Fine cars the lot of them," Tex said with the same tone of voice.

Marshall glanced worriedly at Tex, wondering what exactly his boss had gotten up to during his time away from Dallas. It looked like he was forming a plan, which was usually good for the company but meant more work and a lot of uncertainty as far as security was concerned.

Lightning meanwhile was looking at Smokey with a sense of awe. The old two truck glanced at him sternly but there was definitely a hint of a smile there.

"So," he studied Lightning. "You're the Hot Rod Hud's always writing to me about."

"Doc writes about me?" Lightning glanced at the Hudson Hornet.

"Often," Smokey stated, ignoring Doc's glare. Hud hadn't gotten in contact with him for over 20 years after he'd left the circuit. This was revenge time.

"Well, what does he say?" Lightning was bursting with curiosity.

"Lots of things, depending on the day."

"Alright, that's enough," Doc cut in. "Time for the trek back to Thomasville."

"Actually that won't be necessary," Finn said smoothly. "I'm sure Siddeley would be more than happy to take us."

"Of course, Finn," the plane agreed. "Except for the trucks of course." He looked apologetically at the haulers.

"Eh, it's no problem," Mack was completely understanding.

The two trucks and Sarge agreed to drive back and hunt for any stray criminals. A Ford Raptor had managed to get away along with a forklift. Rotor volunteered to fly back Tex and a few other cars to lighten Siddeley's load.

"What about Douglas?" Marshall asked. "I don't want to keep him here." Douglas had been put in a corner of the compound while the conversation was going on, just far enough to not get in the way, but close enough so that Sheriff and Marshall could keep a close eye on him.

"We have Acer and Grem as well," Holley added from the back of the plane.

"Bring em' back," Smokey said. "We can keep them locked up together."

"There's a prison in Thomasville?" Marshall questioned.

"No," Smokey replied. "But we got a barn."

Grem and Acer groaned in the back of Siddeley.

Marshall had just finished loading up Monroe when Luke returned with Strip.

"Mr. The King," Lightning exclaimed. "Thank goodness you're alright."

"He's most definitely not alright," Luke grumbled.

"I could say the same," Strip smiled slightly. "You were the one carried off in a helicopter."

"Yeah, well, I managed to get out," Lightning shrugged.

"You were rescued by Mater's girlfriend," Doc corrected, making sure to keep the kid's ego in check. Weathers shared a look with Tex.

"We gonna find out what's going on any time soon?" he asked the billionaire.

"We sure will, as soon as we get back to Smokey's," Tex said, glancing over the racer one last time to make sure he was alright.

"Smokey?" Strip asked and Lightning cut in.

"Yeah, he's Doc's old crew chief!" the race car said excitedly. "Turns out we're really close to where his old home base used to be."

"Fine cars, Strip," Tex added, coming next to Weathers and nudging him with his tire.

"Nice of you to say that," Smokey came next to him. "But let's get a move on."

"You can gush later, Hot Rod," Doc rolled his eyes as McQueen grinned, near-death experience seemingly forgotten. "Right now I need to check Weathers as we fly back." The Hudson Hornet turned onto the ramp and added. "I can see the axle's bent all the way from over here."

"Wasn't about to protest," Strip replied, relieved as Luke helped him into Siddeley.

Siddeley took off carrying all three criminal cars, Smokey, Doc, McQueen, Finn and Holley. Sheriff opted to fly with Tex, Marshall and Luke in the Dinoco helicopter. It was the most cars Siddeley had ever carried and he was grateful that it was only a short flight back to Thomasville. He'd have to land on the old racetrack.

Sarge and the two trucks stayed behind to hunt down the Raptor and forklift that had escaped.

Strip was mostly in a tired haze the whole flight back. He had no idea who the Aston Martin was but he and the Hudson Hornet seemed to be running the show. Doc examined him and declared him fit to move a little bit at a time but told him he needed to have an x-ray done as soon as he got back to Dallas. The orange truck (Strip believed his name was Smokey) had clearly never flown before and so Doc went next to him and talked to him in a low tone for the rest of the flight. He was the first out of the door when the plane (since when had there been a plane) landed.

"Wow," Lighting had immediately breathed upon exiting the plane and seeing the old speedway. By now the moon was up and cast a faint light over the beaten track. There had been no time to spare and Doc led Lighting and Strip up towards Smokey's house.

Smokey showed the Aston Martin and the purple car where to lock up the prisoners when Rotor landed outside the building. The helicopter offered to stand watch and Luke volunteered to stay with him. Holley stayed as well and Smokey led Finn, Marshall, Sheriff and Tex to his house. Halfway there he was stopped by a local forklift who informed him that Lou had moved Deborah to her house, figuring that Smokey would need the space.

The six cars all crowded into Smokey's comfortable but small living room. Lighting stood next to Doc while across from him stood Tex and Strip. Sheriff stayed at the back, ready to write up an official police report if he needed to. Marshall settled next to Tex.

Smokey rolled in followed last by Finn McMissile. The orange tow truck pulled up next to Doc and allowed a moment of silence so that everyone could gain their bearings.

"Alright," he said slowly. "You all know me as Smokey, Hud's old crew chief. And I don't know much about what's going on here except for what Hud told me earlier today. So, I want you to tell us," he looked straight at the Aston Martin. "Who you are and what the heck you have to do with this."

Finn took over smoothly.

"First off, my name is McMissile," he looked over at the cars he didn't know. "Finn McMissile. And I came to apprehend the last of Sir Axelrod's associates."

Finn launched into an explanation of how he had traced Grem into the country with the last of the Allinol oil. He was sure to leave out any mention of sensitive information, but he told the group enough to satisfy their curiosity. He explained that when he had heard about McQueen's disappearance, he'd immediately suspected Grem had something to do with it. The spy told them all about Mater's help, knowing that the tow truck would eventually spill the secret anyway. After that, all that remained was the rather boring trip towards Thomasville, overhearing the confession from Deborah in the bar, and finally the infiltration into the compound.

"And yes, I was the one who shoot that bullet," he looked towards Doc. The Hudson Hornet just nodded in thanks as McQueen looked confused between the two.

"So you've pretty much been following us since we left?" Tex asked.

"Sorry about all the of secrecy, but we needed the element of surprise," Finn said apologetically.

"Spies," Sheriff muttered, grateful but just slightly annoyed at all the mystery surrounding the operation.

Everyone was so exhausted that there wasn't much to say after that. Marshall called in officers from Atlanta to come to the compound and officially arrest all of the employees. Finn assured Sheriff that the Allinol oil would be confiscated along with Grem and Acer. Marshall left to go collaborate with Sarge about the latest news on the round up of the escaped cars. Smokey went to his room and Strip fell asleep in the living room. Doc took the guest bedroom along with McQueen who was too tired to go to his trailer. Tex stayed with Strip.

Sheriff went to join Luke at the barn but ended up sleeping right next to it. Holley and Finn went back to Siddeley.

It had been a long day of turmoil and adrenaline, of fear and all sorts of other emotions, and while Doc didn't want to process any of that he couldn't help but say one thing to the kid before he drifted off.

"Hey, Lightning."

"Yeah, Doc?"

"I'm glad you're alright."

There was a moment of silence as Lightning beamed in the dim light.

"Me too."

* * *

A very miserable and cold Ford Raptor was making his way through the rough terrain. He only had one head light working and used it on dim. He didn't want that Jeep to find him... Not after everything that had happened. He was the one with the bent grill, no thanks that that annoying 43 race car. He just hoped he'd make it out of the forest alive in order to enjoy the 75 000 Monroe had paid into his account.

"And where do you think you're going?" A voice to his left startled him. He jumped to the side and put his remaining headlight on to see an old lady car driving towards him, her paint job indicating that she used to be a racer. Not another race car... He was so SICK or race cars.

"Look, Lady," he bit back a snarl. "I don't wanna hurt you. So why don't you just let me go on my way and forget you ever saw me."

The Lady didn't seem threatened. In fact she smirked.

"Hurt me, huh?" Lou asked. "Oh, sonny, you're not gonna hurt anyone where you're going."

"Yeah? And where's that?" The Raptor grit out, ready to shove past the old car. He was bigger and could take her on any day. A sudden high pitched buzz from his side caught his attention. He felt a sudden pressure on his left back tire.

"What the?" He exclaimed as he was tilted to the side. A little bit more pressure on his other back tire and he was tireless at the rear.

The old car in front of him started laughing.

A small blue forklift with a drill appeared on his right along and a smaller yellow car from behind a bush.

"No where!" Lou cheered, still laughing.

"Manufiche, Guido!" Luigi cheered.

"Pit stop," Guido revved his drill.

The Raptor stomped his tire on the ground, angrily. Not only were race cars stupid, their crews seemed just as bad!

* * *

Lou led the way back through Thomasville with Luigi rolling back the raptors' tires and Guido acting as the Raptors back wheels. In front of the now-closed Cotter Pin bar they met River and Moon, escorting a tipsy forklift.

"I'm going back... To Indiana!" The forklift sang in a squeaky voice before hiccuping. Lou looked at the two cars with a frown on her face.

"Don't look at me," River shook his head. "Moon here was the one who decided to feed him some shine."

"It was only a drop!" Moon protested. "And he was absolutely parched."

Guido dropped the Raptor with more force than necessary and examined the singing forklift.

"Hey..." the forklift slurred. "Haven't I seen you on tv?"

Guido responded with a quick whack on the other forklift's side. He fell over and was out cold. Guido picked up the Raptor again and muttered something in Italian.

"He says he doesn't want to wake the others," Luigi explained and followed his friend towards the barn where Sheriff had just parked. The three race cars looked after them, impressed by McQueen's pit crew.

"That little guy sure has a lotta spirit," River observed.

"He seems to go ape quite quickly," Moon agreed.

Lou grinned.

"I like him."

* * *

 **Go ape: 50s slang for getting mad or exploding in anger. And can I just saw how cool I think it sounds to use Hudson Hornet and Aston Martin in one sentence?**


	16. Chapter 16

**If anyone likes listening music while reading, I wrote the Cotter Pin scenes with the song _I'm going back to Indiana_ in mind. I know Thomasville doesn't have anything to do with Indiana, but the general feel of the song fits. **

* * *

The next morning dawned bright and early. The sleepy little town of Thomasville glittered as the sun cast it's bright rays on the dripping pine trees. The fact there was a giant plane on the speedway track also added an additional shine to the town as Siddeley shook the water off him so it went dripping onto the ground. Most of the citizens of the small town started business as usual, and while the strangers definitely caused a stir among them, word had spread that a rescue had taken place and that Smokey would offer an explanation as soon as he was ready.

Sheriff was fast asleep against the side of the barn as was the Dinoco helicopter. Luke had climbed into the chopper at one point and was snoozing away. Mack and Gray were parked by their trailers, snowing lightly. Marshall was inside of the Dinoco trailer and Luigi and Guido were leaning against each other in the Rusteze trailer. Sarge, feeling a little lost without Fillmore, ended up in the Rusteze trailer as well. Finn and Holley were fast asleep in Siddeley.

Inside Smokey's house, Weathers was completely dead to the world. Lightning was as well, but he'd always had a thing for sleeping in late. At least, that's what Doc thought when he woke up. Lightning was slumbering in the corner, the sunlight coming in through the window just landing on his bonnet. The Hudson Hornet smiled slightly and quietly crept out of the door. He'd let Lightning sleep in just this one day. The kid had had a rough few days and a late night.

By the time he reached the kitchen Doc had figured it was about 7 in the morning, which meant he'd slept for about six hours. He wasn't surprised to see Smokey in the kitchen, already drinking a can of oil.

"Hey Hud," the old truck said, not even looking around. He nudged a can of oil Doc's way.

"Mornin' Smokey."

Doc accepted it and took a sip.

"Hasn't changed a bit," he commented, enjoying the warm feeling washing through him.

"There was no need for it to," Smokey replied, swirling the can with his tire. The two cars sat in companionable silence, Doc enjoying the quiet but sturdy presence Smokey always offered. He glanced into the living room and saw Weathers still sleeping.

"Where's Dinoco?" He asked, remembering that the Texan had stayed in the living room the previous night.

"Went out earlier," Smokey replied. "Said somethin' about billionaires not gettin' any sleep."

Doc made a low 'huh' sound in response and finished his oil. Without saying a word, him and Smokey left the house, knowing a slow drive around town would be good to clear their heads. The racers would be safe at Smokey's house. They drove mostly in silence, except for Doc occasionally asking a question about the town or Smokey giving a comment. They reached the barn and saw Finn McMissile coming out, just having checked on the prisoners. Sheriff startled awake and Doc grinned as he saw the law car say something about just nodding off quickly to rest his eyes. The two eventually reached the road leading to the racetrack and saw that Siddeley was no longer parked in the middle of it.

"Probably went off to check the compound," Doc commented. Smokey made an agreeing sound and the two leisurely drove down to the track. The two cars both entered the gate together and Doc felt a little shiver travel through his engine block. The rain made the old track glisten and while the fog the previous day allowed the Hudson Hornet to remember the track during it's glory days, the bright sun made it look far more cheery than it actually was.

"Go on," Smokey said from further off, and Doc looked to see the truck had positioned himself in his old crew chief position. Smokey nodded towards the starting line and Doc found himself driving towards it, like an unseen hook was pulling him in that direction. He would always be a racer at heart.

Once on the line Doc positioned himself and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and reopened them, staring straight at where the flagman would usually be. He glanced towards the turn and revved. Then he looked back at where the flag would be. It dropped. Doc shot forward, the dirt behind him flying in all directions. Smokey broke into a wide smile as Doc took the first corner with ease.

"Watch them back ones," he said quietly as Doc's back tires skidded just a little due to them not being dirt tires. He recovered quickly and sped through the next turn, allowing his rear tires to swing back on purpose, just for the heck of it. With a determined look on his face the Fabulous Hudson Hornet sped down the straight of the track and Smokey watched him, eyes glued to his pupil. Upon reaching the last left turn Doc's tires shifted right and he drifted along the dirt. It wasn't completely flawless, most likely due to him wearing the wrong tires, but it was enough to send a huge, proud smile over Smokey's face.

Doc grinned before racing across the finish line. The grin was still plastered over his face as he screeched to a halt. He let the dust settle around him as he glanced at the old track, almost feeling it shiver underneath his tires.

Smokey drove up to him just as a shout caught Doc's attention.

"Woah!" The cars turned to see McQueen rolling through the gates with Tex and Sheriff behind him. Finn McMissile was hanging back, talking with Marshall.

"That was amazing!" the red race car exclaimed. "This is where you used to race, right?"

"Says so right on the sign," Doc nodded to the old thing which could just be seen from the track.

"You had a sign?" McQueen was practically jumping up and down on his front tires.

"Kid, this used to be my Radiator Springs," Doc said.

"So Smokey was like my you?" Lightning asked. Smokey shot Doc a confused look before Doc nodded.

"He sure was, kid. And best darn crew chief I've ever seen."

"Well, you needed a firm hand," Smokey grinned.

"What was he like when he was younger?" Lightning asked eagerly.

"Younger?" Doc sounded offended.

"Come on, Doc," Lightning rolled his eyes knowing Doc wasn't actually offended. "You know what I mean."

"Well, seeing as I owe you my thanks for getting Hud here to come visit in the first place, I guess I'll have to tell you all about it," Smokey finally had a good look at the car who had gotten his friend back into racing. It was strange to hear other cars referring to Hud as Doc but he liked this kid already. He went round to inspect the track and started telling the story of how Doc first rolled into Thomasville. Lightning followed him, hanging onto every single word.

"It was good for you to come back." Doc looked round at Sheriff who was looking proudly at his friend.

"You think so?" Doc asked. Sheriff nodded firmly.

"Absolutely. It's doing you a world of good."

Doc knew Sheriff was right but left that unsaid as he overheard Marshall talking with Finn.

"So you'll extradite them back to the UK?" He was asking.

"Yes," Finn replied. "Seeing as that's where Axelrod was apprehended, that's where their trial will take place. Their resources will most likely be frozen but that's not exactly my department. Holley will be able to tell you more about what happens in that area."

"By resources you mean that oil supply of Axelrod's?" Tex asked, sliding into the conversation.

"Yes," Finn nodded. "I'm not sure how much of it will be released on the news but you should be able to see the trial."

"By when will their assets be frozen?" Tex asked, and Doc heard something in oil baron's voice. He didn't know what it was but it made him curious.

"Probably not until we have them booked," Finn said. "It's rather a long process."

Marshall noticed the look as well, but while Doc was curious Marshall seemed to be dreading it.

"Huh, that's right interesting," Tex nodded.

"Any special interest?" Finn asked casually.

"Well... Not officially," Tex said. "But let's just say I keep to keep my eyes open."

"Understood," Finn heard the sound of familiar engines above them. Glancing up at the sky he saw Siddeley about to prepare for a landing. "Perfect timing."

The cars moved out of the way so that the airplane could land, Lightning and Smokey still at the far end of the track.

"What's the plan, Dinoco?" Doc asked the Texan as they made their way back to the barn so that Finn and Holley could transport the prisoners. "Shouldn't you be heading back to Dallas soon with Weathers?"

Doc was a little worried about the veteran racer and wanted him to get to a hospital as soon as possible to scan for any internal injuries.

"Oh, I called Trixy for us," the Texan said. "She's my personal pilot. Enough room for all of us to fly back in comfort. Only thing is we'll have to drive back to Atlanta later today and there's no room for the trucks."

"That's awfully generous of you," Doc commented.

"Best to stick together after everything that's happened." In all honesty Tex wanted to make sure everyone got back to safety and that Douglas was put behind bars for good. "Rotor'll take Strip back early along with Luke and Marshall. He could also take any of your crew that need to make their way back earlier.

"Well, you'll have to ask them."

They reached the barn just as Strip came out looking for any sign of life. Sarge, Luigi, Guido, and the trucks had also woken up by this time in order to watch the scene unfold.

"Not used to being the last one up," Strip joked with Rotor as he saw the other cars driving towards them.

"Quite understandable considering the circumstances," Holley assured him. She was waiting with Grem and Acer for Finn to help move them safely to Siddeley.

"Well," Doc turned to Finn as he addressed him and McQueen. "It's been good to see all of you again. Tell Mater good job and to keep everything as quiet as possible."

"Will do, Mr. McMissile," Lightning chuckled.

"Will we be seeing you again at Radiator Springs soon?" Sheriff asked.

"I think we're due a vacation after this," Finn glanced at Holley who nodded and pushed the two cars towards the plane, taser visible and ready for use. They grumbled about having to drive all that way.

"It's not our fault you had to choose this place for your base," Holley scolded them. "If you had chosen somewhere more flat Siddeley could have landed much closer to you."

"McMissile," Tex rolled up. "A word with the prisoner if you don't mind."

Finn and the others were a little taken aback by this request but the spy nodded. "Just to the plane," he said.

Grem looked extremely confused as the oil baron sidled up along side him. He had no idea what this car wanted, he just knew Monroe had some sort of grudge against him.

"Mr. Grem is it?" Tex said as the two cars made their way towards the track, a confused Acer being prodded along by Holley.

"Yeah?" the Gremlin car asked.

"I couldn't help but notice you've got yourself in a bit of a pickle situation here. Now, I know things don't look too good for you right now, but I happen to know some of the best darn lawyers in this country and others. You might be looking for some quick cash and I just happen to know about the oil platforms you have..."

Except for Holley and Finn the others cars looked on in utter disbelief as the Texan oil baron drove off with the international criminal, prattling on as if they were old friends.

Marshall shook his head.

"Unbelievable."

Strip also shook his head but with a fond smile on his face.

Doc looked on, expression tilted. Tex really was a smooth business car. Like a gap in a race, he had taken his opportunity and went straight for his chance right between the other cars. Business was like racing in that regard. And maybe that made Tex a racer at heart... One side of the Hudson Hornet's mouth twitched up into a grin.

"Son of a gun."

* * *

"Well, Strip," Tex announced when he came back to the barn and the veteran racer was comfortably settled inside of Rotor. "If I'd have known your abduction would have landed me with the biggest oil deal of the century I would have arranged it a whole lot sooner!"

"Anything for you, Tex," Strip grinned ever so slightly.

Lightning, who was trailing behind the billionaire next to Doc, slightly envied the way the two friends could just pick up where they had left off. Every time he looked at Doc he was reminded about having to jump out of that helicopter. He turned his attention back to where Tex was assuring Marshall that he would be fine, and that it was time for the security head to get back to Dallas.

"20 billion dollars, Tex?" Strip asked, overhearing the number he'd agreed to pay Monroe for the oil-patch. "Isn't that a little steep?'

"It's a bargain!" Tex exclaimed. "Just you wait, Strip. That money will pay itself back within two years!"

Strip shock his head at the insane amount of money the billionaire dealt with on a daily basis. He was paid rather well of course, but nowhere near that amount. Besides, the perks of the job came in the form of benefits... Like a helicopter.

"Whatever you say," he said as Marshall climbed in on the other side of Luke.

"Watch it," Luke mumbled as he was squished in between the two cars.

"This is why you're the race coach and I'm the CEO," Tex responded. "Just you focus on your job and I'll focus on mine."

"Alright, Tex."

Rotor started his propellers and Tex rolled back to give him room.

"See you back in Dallas," he called out.

Doc spoke as soon as the helicopter was far enough away so that the cars could hear themselves.

"So, when's that fancy plane of yours going to land in Atlanta?" He asked.

"About three hours," Tex shrugged. "Which gives us another hour or so in this place. You show that rookie of yours the Cotter Pin yet?"

"What's the Cotter Pin?" Lightning asked, ready for anything that Thomasville presented. He wanted to know nothing short of everything about Doc's old base.

"Just a bar," Doc mumbled.

"With the best darn company I've had in years," Tex cut in. "I met all of Doc's old racing buddies."

"Racing buddies?" Lightning exclaimed. "Can I meet them Doc? Please?"

"Alright," Doc sighed. "I guess they can't tell you too much in only an hour."

Smokey grinned in the background.

Doc might have been right but Lou, River and Moon used the hour they had to the best of their abilities and told Lightning every single embarrassing story about Hud that they could think of.

"Hey, that's stretching the truth," Doc protested as Moon told the story about how he'd gotten stuck in a ditch.

"I don't know, Doc," Sarge said from the side. "It sounds pretty accurate to me."

"It's true! Every word of it!" Moon chorused. The Radiator Springs crew had ended up crowding around outside along with the locals. It was such a nice day everyone had taken their drinks into the sun and in that way they were able to keep Mack and Gray company as well. All the cars were listening to Doc's old friends eagerly, except for Luigi, whose attention was otherwise occupied by a pretty forklift.

"He reminds me of you," Smokey said quietly to Doc, just as Lightning demanded to know what stupid rookie mistakes Doc had made.

"You think?" Doc muttered, half-sulking at his friends' merciless teasing.

"Yeah," Smokey nodded. "You just had a bit more attitude."

"The kid had attitude alright," Sheriff said quietly, having overheard them. "But Doc got rid of that pretty fast when he came into town."

"Glad something I taught you stuck."

"You taught me a whole lot more than that."

There was a moment of silence before Smokey asked quietly,

"You will come to visit again?"

"Yeah," Doc was surprised at how easily the answer came to him. He didn't hesitate or feel threatened at the thought. "Kid'll enjoy it. Once the season's over."

"We'll be here."

They stayed longer than an hour, and it was Gray who had his eye on the time that said they had to leave.

"Aww, just a few minutes longed?" Lightning asked.

"Yeah, Hud, you're always in such a hurry," Lou scolded.

"Hey, McQueen's got a girlfriend waiting for him," Mack reminded. "And Gray and I gotta haul those trailers all the way back to Dallas!"

"We'll pack you a supply," Moon offered and hurried back into the Cotter Pin. He came out with several cans, and Sarge took one, fully planning on giving one to Fillmore. He'd say it was natural. The look the hippie's face would be priceless.

After goodbyes were traded in front of the bar, the two trucks led the way down the dirt road with the rest of the crew trailing behind. Doc went first with Sheriff. They were followed by Luigi and Guido, the former talking rapidly in Italian, clearly head over tires in love with the forklift. Guido simply nodded and listened. Sarge drove behind them and made sure Luigi didn't drive into a ditch or a tree.

Lightning took up the rear with Tex.

When he reached the top of the road he turned to have a look at the sign. The fact that it was old and that the paint was peeling off didn't make Lightning smile any less. It actually made him like it more. Because it was rough around the edges just like Doc. The Fabulous Hudson Hornet. Lightning sighed deeply and looked across the little town until his eyes settled on the speedway. He heard Tex roll up behind him.

"I wish I could have stayed longer," he admitted. Being in Thomasville had given him the opportunity to get to meet the cars that he'd only known in history books and to see Doc's past in a whole new light.

"Well son," Tex started, and there was a hint of an almost mischievous secret smile in his tone. "I have a feeling we'll all be back here very soon."

"Why do you say that?" Lightning asked, tearing his gaze away from the track.

"Oh, just a feeling," Tex grinned.

* * *

The plane wasn't huge but it was comfortably furnished and the cars from Radiator Springs were glad for the easy trip home. Sarge, Luigi and Guido busied themselves with the television and some articles in the newspaper while Tex excused himself to go make a few calls. This left Lightning and Doc sitting in the middle of the plane, both of them staying quiet as they heard the low chatter from the three in front of them. Doc glanced out of the window, watching the clouds flutter under them. His mind was far away, processing everything that had happened at Thomasville and how he felt about it.

"Hey Doc?" He turned as Lightning asked. The kid looked a little torn, and Doc realized that he was also trying to process the same emotions. But while Doc would sort everything out in his head and compartmentalize, Lightning did better when everything was out in the open.

"Thanks for coming," the Hot Rot said, a hint of a grateful smile on his face.

"You're welcome, Kid," he said, and the rare warmth with which he said it put Lightning at ease. Doc turned back to the window and Lightning turned towards his across the aisle. They'd be ok. They always were.

* * *

"McQueen! Doggonit, I knew Finn would rescue you!" Mater greeted as Lightning made his way down the ramp of the plane. They had landed safely in Dallas and their friends were waiting eagerly for their return.

"Thanks Mater," McQueen laughed. "Although," he looked around as if suspicious and said in a low voice, "I don't think he would have wanted you to say anything."

"Oh," Mater clamped his mouth shut. "Sorry 'bout that," he muttered.

"It's alright, Mater," Doc sighed as he came beside the rookie. "McMissile told us everything."

Lightning didn't have much time to respond as Fillmore and Ramone swamped him from where they had been impatiently waiting behind the tow truck.

"Hey, Lightning man! You got yourself some scratches there."

"We were so worried about you."

"Alright, coming through," Sally pushed her way in between the two cars, causing them to roll back.

"Hey Sally," McQueen greeted, expression softening at the sight of his girlfriend.

"Stickers," Sally smiled. "You don't look as bad as I thought you would."

"Aw, nothing I couldn't handle," Lightning shrugged.

"You mean nothing Finn couldn't handle," Doc cut in.

"As I recall, Strip said something about you saying please don't hurt us," Tex jumped on board the 'tease Lightning ship' as he came off the ramp.

"Hey," Lightning was just about to defend himself but Sally kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm sure you were very brave, Stickers," she said, and Lightning melted."Other than the screaming for help."

Lightning shot her an annoyed look.

"What? I know you too well!"

Mater was about to remind McQueen about the time he ran away screaming from an anthill but got sidetracked by Sarge and Fillmore.

"Here, have some," Sarge pushed an oil can towards Fillmore. "An old friend of Doc's made it. It's organic."

"Thanks, man," Fillmore took a sip, while Sarge leaned forward with a gleeful expression.

"What's organic?" Mater asked, just before Fillmore's eyes widened and he started choking, coughing and heaving all at once.

"That's... NOT... organic," he spluttered as Sarge grinned.

"Made right at home to!" He said enthusiastically.

"Cool! Can I have some?" Mater asked and before waiting for an answer reached for a sip of the can. Lightning spotted him and raced forward.

"Mater, no-" But it was too late.

"WAA HOO!"

And as Lightning watched Mater jump three feet in the air and land on the ground with wild eyes and tires spinning, he knew that he was back. Right back with his family, where he belonged.

* * *

 **Would shine count as organic? Just something for you guys to think about while waiting for the next chapter.**


	17. Chapter 17

**To someone who asked, I was listening part of the Cars 2 soundtrack while writing this. It was track 25, the Radiator Springs Grand Prix, and if you start listening it where the * is, it should fit the story pretty well.**

 **Nosebleed: 50s slang for stupid**

* * *

Tex was true to his word and Lightning did end up seeing Thomasville at the end of the racing season. Or rather, he was invited to the grand Thomasville reopening race by the end of the racing season.

He immediately sped to Doc's garage, where the Hudson Hornet was reading a similar letter.

"Doc, did you hear?" He burst in. "Tex fixed up the Thomasville Speedway!"

"Yes, I heard," Doc was too deep in thought to scold Lightning for slamming the door open. "I'm being asked to race."

Lightning (and Sheriff who had finally caught up to him to scold him for speeding) were stunned into silence.

"You're going to right?" Lightning asked hopefully. Sheriff leaned forward a little as well, hope swelling inside of him. Doc had still been thinking about it but the look on the rookie and his friend's face made up his mind for him.

"Sure I will."

Lightning whooped and screeched out to go tell Mater.

"Just to show you what real racing is!" Doc called after him. But the kid was long gone and Doc was just left to shake his head in the dust.

* * *

Tex had taken quite an interest in Thomasville and had set the ball rolling on a restoration as soon as he arrived back in Dallas.

"It's a cultural legend!" He had told his financial adviser as the poor lady almost had a heart attack, especially after finding out he'd just bought an oil patch from a convicted criminal.

"It was going to be frozen anyway." was his retort to that accusation.

"Are we at least going to have a press opening?" His PR assistant asked.

"Nope," Tex said. "This'll be an historical race, with no need for something like that."

The PR assistant and financial adviser could only look at each other and shake their heads. At least they got paid well to put up with such a wild ride.

No one had been as surprised as Smokey was when he had seen the billionaire only about a month after the carnap incident. He listened through Tex's proposition and after thinking long and hard about it, he finally agreed- under a few conditions.

The Thomasville Speedway obviously wasn't going to be used in any of the current Piston Cup Racers - It was just going to be restored as a historical sight of racing (and that way it was tax deductible as well). Because it was a historic sight, it did mean a lot of pain staking effort was put into making sure the speedway was restored to it's _original_ state. That meant no new lights or fancy gadgets. Life in Thomasville was abuzz with the news, while Radiator Springs and the world remained blissfully ignorant.

Tex didn't even tell Weathers, but the veteran race car had his suspicions, especially when Tex was gone more frequently and came back with a mysterious smile on his face.

Thomasville wasn't the only place that changed for the better. Tex got Deborah's story out of Weathers and arranged a very unique 'sentence' for her as a result of her aiding in a carnapping. After receiving extensive counselling herself, she helped other cars whose children had been in crashes. It would be community service, the billionaire's lawyer had argued. And that way she would be able to be of use to society instead of just being an elderly car in jail that the state had to care for.

"You've really outdone yourself this time," Tex's cousin told him one Saturday when the two were catching up after a rodeo.

The billionaire wasn't so sure about that but it sure felt right to see everything sliding into place as it should. Of course, Dinoco Enterprises had taken a bit of a PR beating for paying 20 billionaire dollars to convicted criminals, but Grem's associates didn't see it that way. That oil field was worth much more money than 20 billionaire - and Axelrod knew it.

Still, all the late nights and intense meetings would pay off. And they did.

* * *

It was a sunny autumn day in the town of Thomasville. The trees that weren't evergreen created a beautiful yellow, brown and yellow haze between the darker green. It was the perfect day for what had been pegged "The History Day Race." It wasn't the best title but it had stuck once someone had suggested it.

Doc had come early the previous day with the Radiator Springs crew and it was the strangest feeling to be the one travelling for the race instead of being the crew chief. They had bunked in Smokey's house and Mack's trailer. Sally, Mater, Flo and Ramone were with them this time and Lightning dragged Sally and Mater everywhere to show them the smallest little thing.

Sally shook her head at the racer's enthusiasm over the smallest little racing 'monument' but Mater was all ears and couldn't stop saying 'cool' enough. She eventually excused herself to go explore the town with Flo. Mater and Lightning went on with their tour until they reached the infamous bar.

"Hey, Lighting!" A voice called the two friends over. Lightning looked up from the Cotter Pin sign and grinned.

"Bobby! You're here too!"

Turns out a few other cars from the Piston circuit had been invited for the race as well. Not to mention the fact that Thomasville was practically crawling with older cars from the surrounding area. Invitation or not - they showed up.

"Is that..." Junior asked as the four friends drove through the town with Mater tagging along.

"Yeah, looks like it," Cal agreed as an older dirt track legend drove by him.

"Think he's in the race?" Bobby asked.

"I hope so," Cal said excitedly.

"Any way for us to see the roster?" Junior glanced down at the track as if expecting to see it posted.

"Not that I know of," Lightning shrugged. "Unless Cal here can take a look at it for us."

"Ha ha, very funny guys," Cal muttered. "I already tried but Tex is guarding that thing like some sort of national treasure."

"Hey look!" Bobby called out. An older car with number 19 on his side was talking with Lou. The other cars followed.

"Isn't that the car you replaced when he retired?" Junior asked.

"Yeah," Bobby said. "I'm gonna go say hi."

"Go ahead," Lightning called. "We're going to get good seats at the Speedway."

The 50-lap race was due to start at 11 that morning, but it was clearly going to be an all day event. Tex and Smokey were sure to arrange accommodation and traffic flow as well as security. Two hours before the race all of the cars that had been asked to race had checked in and the small town was abuzz with traffic. Having predicted the national interest in the event, Tex had a few cameras set up around the Speedway in order to live stream the event... Now that wasn't exactly tax deducible, but so far over 2 million cars were streaming.

Lightning found Sally already waiting for them and scooted next to her. Mater stood next to him, then Bobby, Junior and Cal. Lynda drove up next to her nephew.

"Mind if I sit with you boys?" She asked with a smile.

There was a chorus of 'no, not at all's' and so she joined them.

"Where's Uncle Strip?" Cal asked curiously, expecting to see his uncle beside her.

"You'll see soon enough," Lynda smiled softly.

In the middle of the field the racers and their crew chiefs, if they had any, were starting to gather. Smokey and Doc stood side by side, watching cars fill up the stands that had stood empty for so long.

"Well, Hud," Smokey finally broke the silence. "You make sure none of those young 'uns pass you."

"They could have put me last and I'd still come first," Doc said. It truly was a veterans race. Old veterans and new veterans alike. The numbers on the starting line were picked at random but it had been unanimously agreed that the Fabulous Hudson Hornet would go in front. It was his track after all.

The old sound system were operated by non other than Darrell and Bob.

"Ladies and gentlecars," Bob said from his position in the box. His voice crackled over the newly restored but still old-fashioned loud speakers. "Welcome to the 'History Day Race' here at Thomasville. It's almost time for the race to begin so if everyone could find their seats the racers can get to their starting lines."

"You better get going," Smokey nodded towards the line. Doc nodded and turned to go there.

"Hey, Hud," he stopped and turned back. "Be careful out there."

Doc grinned and took the starting line. He honesty had no idea who he was going to be racing against and so looked around him in interest as younger veteran racers positioned themselves on the starting line.

"Aw, now why'd you get to be in front?"

Then there were also the older, more quippy racers. Doc cast a glare towards Moon.

"Cause his name is on the board, nosebleed," Lou shot back.

Doc grinned.

"You comfortable back there," he called back to Moon. The grumpy Doc was taking a step back and the overconfident, little cocky Hud was coming back.

"Now don't get cocky, Hud!" River called out from fifth.

"Good," Doc said, as if River had said yes. "Cause that's where all of you're staying."

"Is that so?" Doc glanced at the car who had just slid into third. Strip Weathers looked right at home back in his racing tires.

"Huh," he grunted. "King of asphalt about to try and invade the dirt?"

"King of asphalt huh?" Strip glanced between the old timers.

"You're a long way from home," River said, digging his tires into the dirt.

"Well, I've been practicing," Weathers followed suit. "And besides, I've got all you old folks to show me how it's done."

A chorus of oohs and chortles of laughter and even cheers from the younger veterans echoed across the line. Doc himself couldn't help but grin.

"You just earned yourself a place in the dust," Lou warned. Doc dug his tires into the dirt track. The Lightyears felt good after so long, as if he had never stopped wearing them. He risked a glance at McQueen on his right who was beaming at him. Then he glanced to his left where Smokey was nodding with absolute confidence in him. This race was going to be about skill - not about speed. He could win this.

The track fell into hushed silence as Bob called for order. Doc's eyes narrowed as he glanced across the track. River sniffed, nose scrunched up in anticipation. Moon's teeth gritted. Strip forced himself to relax.

The flag was raised.

The whole speedway was quiet.

The flag dropped.

*Clutches were released and dirt went flying as 16 race cars sprang forward from the starting line. Smokey watched with his engine in his mouth as Lou tore inside, almost getting in the way of Doc's optimal line. Weathers was faster and cut her off but Doc took the corner at a drift while the light blue race car was forced to slow down or risk sliding out of control. The race leveled out as Moon battled against a younger veteran and River slid into the drifts more for the sake of doing them then for getting ahead. But while everyone battled and dodged and swerved and took gaps, the Fabulous Hudson Hornet held the lead, absolutely refusing to be rivaled on his own track.

The old stadium was filled with cheers from the crowd and Darrell and Bob could barely be heard over the speakers. The track was alive in colour and vibrant in sound.

High above the race, at an angle where he could see most of the track, a Silver Aston Martin was watching with a small smile on his face. His gaze slid left as he heard someone roll up to him.

"I knew you'd come," he said as Rod Redline joined him next to the Fabulous Hudson Hornet signed.

"Kid brother, remember," Rod nodded towards Bobby who was cheering number 19 on.

"Of course."

Finn let the silence settle between them for another lap.

"So, Grem's in jail then?" Rod finally asked.

"Yes," Finn replied. "In Germany I believe."

"And Acer?"

"All of Axelrod's inner circle are incarcerated, Rod," Finn said earnestly, looking towards his friend. "It's over."

He watched as the closure settled over Rod. He finally nodded.

"So, are we even then?" Finn asked to lighten the mode. Rod shot him an amused side ways look.

"Yeah," he finally nodded. "We're even."

Loud cheering drew the attention of both spies back to the track. One of the younger veterans had just drifted past the older ones.

"You gonna stay for the whole thing?" Rod asked Finn.

"Yes," Finn replied. "I'm due a vacation."

And after three long days of trailing and apprehending Grem accompanied with the long months afterwards where evidence needed to be gather, processed and presented, wasn't this just the perfect spot for some time off...

Finn was starting to see why that billionaire liked this place so much. Rich history, good company, excellent scenery... and the best moonshine this side of the Mississippi.

* * *

 **Because Cars 3 showed me that Tex Dinoco's purpose in life is just to fix everything by throwing money at it.**

 **Well, that's the final chapter and I hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, PMed, favourited and followed, including the guests. Kudos to anyone who got the hint in chapter 6 about which racer is Redline's brother. Bobby's number is 19... Rod came out of house 19.**

 **This is my first published story that's officially complete but I have some ideas in the humanized department so stay tuned for that if interested!**


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